


Lost and Found [Part 1]

by ElyLandon



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 50,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElyLandon/pseuds/ElyLandon
Summary: You’re running for your life when you cross paths with an ex-bounty hunter and his small, green companion. You never thought you’d find someone throughout the whole galaxy who was as lost as you. [Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader, Rating/Warnings: M for mature content. Swearing, violence, {eventual smut}, verbal abuse, hints of triggers and trauma, etc., Note: Slight AU - Slow Burn. Starts after S1E3.]
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 27
Kudos: 154





	1. Recapture

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first time on Ao3 and I'm just kinda running with it. This story currently has two parts. Part 1 is complete with 20 chapters. Part 2 is being worked on alongside Season 2! I wanted to add my story here to see if it could reach more people who probably don't frequent Tumblr. So I hope you enjoy! 💜🤍

You were sitting in your preferredspot of the skug hole bar you’d been frequenting for the last few days. Too many days. The longer you stayed here, the more likely you were to be found. But you didn’t have very many options left. Your transport was out of commission, unless you were willing to steal parts. Option one, you could turn yourself in; that would get you off this planet no question. Option two, you could indenture servitude, but that would take longer to pay off and make it harder to bargain for transport out of here after all was said and done. Besides, after everything you had done to free yourself, you preferred option three. Option three was to stow away on a ship.

So you listened. You observed. For four days you kept to your corner of the bar, nursing drinks you really couldn’t afford, and waited until you heard about a ship large enough to hide a stowaway without anyone being the wiser.

In a place like this, no one really paid any attention to you. Zekir had taught you how to become invisible, how to play parts and become someone that eyes skipped over without a second glance. Hell, if the cons he taught you had worked on Zekir himself, you imagined you were actually pretty damn good at them.

You were using those skills now. For the last four days you played the besotted wife/girlfriend/lover, whatever, that had clearly been left behind. You may have gone a little overboard in your charade, purposefully not washing your hair so that it appeared greasy, and drawing coal under your eyes that you intentionally streaked down your cheeks to seem as if you had been crying. The stale smell of alcohol that you spent four days accumulating– and probably your hair, too– only helped to cement the image. Just in case, though, you also added padding to your clothing, appearing perhaps 40 pounds heavier than the girl bounty hunters might be looking for.

You only hoped your tricks were as clever as you thought they were. But really, if someone saw a sniveling mess of a girl in the corner of a bar, more often than not, they turned away. It was those that paid attention to you that you needed to worry about.

You had chosen this spot for that reason as well. It was the far corner of the bar with a clear view of the entrance and an exit at your back. No booth. It was easier to hop off a stool and slink out the exit without you hysterically scooting your ass across a booth, desperately trying to escape. Zekir always said you were too paranoid. You had given him such an incredulous look whenever he said so. But you suppose that he had never considered _he_ was one of the reasons for your paranoia.

That very paranoia tickled the back of your neck as your first hint of trouble in four days blew into the bar in the form of a Mandalorian. Of all the beings you had encountered over the years, you never once thought you’d see a Mandalorian. To be fair, when you were a child, you never believed you would have seen half the shit you have, your home planet being extremely ignorant of anything that lived beyond it. But still, a Mandalorian? Your body seized with apprehension as he walked up to the bar, waiting to see if his gaze passed over you, or lingered.

It was hard to gauge that though, what with that gaze being hidden behind a helmet of beskar and all.

He took a spot at the bar, a healthy distance from where you sat, and addressed the bartender.

“I’m a hunter. I’m looking for work.”

You relaxed as the bartender murmured about seeing what job requests he might have in the back. Just a hunter. Not a _bounty_ hunter with the Guild. However, just because he wasn’t here on a job didn’t mean he wouldn’t recognize you and decide that _you_ would _be_ his next job. You kept your guard up, staring teary-eyed and mournfully into your tankard while tracking his movements in your peripheral vision.

You could _feel_ it when he finally looked at you. His attention was a heavy feeling that settled uncomfortably on your chest, an icy weight that burned through your lungs. You contemplated lifting your head in his direction, and considered the exact heartbroken, lovesick, doe-eyed expression you would give him if you did. It would seem more suspicious if you continued to act like you couldn’t feel him looking at you. He wasn’t being subtle about it.

Just as you tilted your head up, sad eyes meeting the T of the Mandalorian’s visor, two forms seemed to materialize behind him, passing through the entrance of the bar. For the second time within several minutes your body tensed as your gaze focused over the Mandalorian’s shoulder, and you knew your mask had slipped from your features. If you had thought the Mandalorian was trouble, you had been gravely mistaken.

One creature was large and intimidating, looking almost like a troll from the books you had read as a child. The other was a humanoid man, tall and spindly, squinted eyes quickly scanning the room.

“ _Shit_ ,” you whispered harshly, and immediately slid off your stool. Without even looking back towards the Mandalorian to see if he had made you too, you slipped through the back exit, knowing full well the two newcomers had already spotted you.

They weren’t bounty hunters. They were worse. Two of Thasar’s very own thugs that knew you very, _very_ well. Rhet and Gurn– and Meck probably wasn’t that far behind them. You swore to yourself again, jogging down the alley adjacent to the bar while trying to formulate a plan. You had to hide until dark, and then it looked like you would be stealing those parts you needed. You had to get off this planet, _now_.

Inside, the Mandalorian silently watched you slip away. Admittedly, in all his time as a bounty hunter, he had never seen someone camouflage themselves so well. He hadn’t realized you were a mark until the second your eyes steeled over and that curse had escaped your lips. He followed your gaze and put two and two together, spotting what had caused the overwhelming change in your entire demeanor. Two hunters, most likely Guild, taking notice of your smooth escape as well. The smaller of the two addressed the bigger one.

“I’ll follow her. You and Meck split up, see if we can corner her.” The big one nodded, and they continued after their target.

The bartender returned empty handed. All his open jobs were already being run by the Guild. The Mandalorian sighed. He’d have to try somewhere else, or find a better planet to lay low on for a while without needing to worry about spending all he had on fuel. Finding a semi-permanent hiding spot would probably be better for the kid than planet hopping anyway.

He tipped the bartender and left, wondering only for the briefest of moments how hard-pressed those three hunters would be trying to find you out here. With what he had just witnessed, you seemed like the kind of target that disappeared once out of sight, easily blending in with your surroundings. To say the least, it would have made for an interesting hunt if you had been _his_ job.

—

Unfortunately, these three thugs knew all of your tricks. This wasn’t the first time you had escaped Thasar. Scratch that, this wasn’t the first time you had _attempted_ to escape Thasar. The only reason Rhet, Gurn, and Meck hadn’t caught you so quickly this time was because you had an inside man helping you get out. Their direct supervisor, Zekir.

Still, you had only been gone for about two weeks. You had expected it to be harder for them to find you with how many planets you had jumped. With the speed at which they found you, you wondered now if Zekir was orchestrating your recapture for Thasar. Considering how you’d left him, you wouldn’t be surprised.

You discarded the extra weight in your clothing as you zipped in and out of alleys. All it was doing for you now was slowing you down. You jumped out into a crowded market street and deftly slid a scarf off an unsuspecting woman’s arm while she was busy haggling at a stall. You crossed the street, pulling the scarf over your hair and streaming around people like a current of water, careful not to jostle anyone.

“ _If you run headlong through a crowd, people will part for you, and it will give away your location,”_ Zekir’s voice sounded in your head. Fool. He had never suspected how much knowledge he was giving you for free.

A dark chuckle escaped you at that afterthought. Free? You knew very well a price had come with Zekir’s help. You just didn’t like to think about it.

You spotted a coat rack through an open shop door and made for it. Slipping into the store, you pulled a cloak from the rack and threw it over your shoulders, then headed for the back exit. You pulled the hood up, and the scarf down to cover the lower half of your face. Your disguise may have looked sketchy, but you had seen at least a dozen other people in that crowded street that looked just the same. You stood out more when those goons knew what they were looking for. Now you could just mold into a crowd, become invisible, no one paying you any attention.

But, again, these thugs knew your tricks. Stepping out the back exit into yet another alley, you saw Rhet pass by the mouth that lead back to the market street.

You let out another curse and turned, trying to appear as casual as you could in case he hadn’t noticed you yet. You calmly made for the other end of the alley. Just another opening into another street filled with people. You could still escape.

Gurn’s hulking form filled the other end of the alley. That’s when panic really settled in your gut. In a last ditch effort, you lunged towards the door of the building on your right. Just as your hand landed on the knob, it twisted, and out stepped a man slightly smaller, but sturdier than Rhet.

Meck.

He reached for you as you backpedaled, and again you heard Zekir’s voice.

“ _You fight to get away, not to win, Y/N. You can’t win._ ”

Without thinking, as if those hours and hours of training with Zekir came to the forefront of your mind, you shoved Meck’s reach aside, and grabbed his left shoulder with both hands. As hard as you could, you rammed your knee into his gut, not once, but twice.

“ _Always try to hit twice. Don’t ever assume your first hit will take them down._ ”

Wheezing, Meck went down.

“ _Run. Don’t wait to see if they stay down. Just assume that they won’t and run._ ”

You ran towards Rhet. You were sure as hell more likely to take him down than Gurn. Realizing your play, Rhet swore and pulled out his blaster. As he swung it your way you fell into a slide. Skidding past him, you quickly turned and threw a punch at the back of his knee. It was awkward, and not nearly as debilitating as what you did to Meck. But he still crumpled, and you lurched up, heading for the street, a cry about to escape your lips-

Gurn’s giant hand landed on your shoulder and he yanked you back. You stumbled and he used your lost balance to throw you into one of the building walls. Before you could even bring your hands up, his meaty fist slammed into your stomach, and you doubled over, gasping.

You couldn’t even catch your breath before all three of them were upon you. Gurn and Meck each grabbed one of your arms, and held you too far out of reach for your short, flailing legs to make a connection. Rhet stood in front of you and pulled your hood and scarf off before grabbing a fistful of your hair and craning your neck back to get a good look at you.

“Well, that was cute,” he said, smirking. “Never knew you could throw down like that. Normally you just flail around until we drag you back.”

You tried to throw a kick in his direction, desperate to hit something, _anything_. But you were still gasping for the air Gurn had knocked out of your lungs, stars popping in and out of your vision. Rhet chuckled.

“Yeah, more like that.” His tone morphed into a soft crooning and he shook his head. “But you’re in deep shit this time, Y/N. Went a few pads too far from the pond, left the boss’s favorite guard a bloody mess in your wake, and stole one of his ships. If you thought Thasar was angered by one of your escape attempts before, that was nothing. He was more annoyed than anything back then. Now? After all this? He’s fucking livid.”

As the adrenaline faded, that panic from before reared up, lodging itself into your throat.

 _No. No no no no no!_ You had finally gotten out, finally escaped! You couldn’t go back, not after you’d made it this far. There were no more chances back there. Zekir wouldn’t help you this time. Thasar would make damned sure you couldn’t escape again. He’d make sure you wouldn’t want to _try_ to escape again, if anything at all.

You screamed then. You turned your head towards the market street and screamed for help. You had promised yourself that you would never ask for help again. Not after Zekir. Fuck that. Fuck pride, fuck fear, fuck only relying on yourself, fuck all of it. You can’t go back. You _can’t_ go back!

“Help! Please, someone! Help me, please! _Please_!”

You knew no one would stop for you. Just like in the bar. If someone saw a sniveling mess of a girl surrounded by thugs in an alley, more often than not, they turned away. You’ve screamed yourself hoarse before. You’ve already learned this lesson on the cruelness of strangers.

Rhet released your hair and lifted his blaster to your face. This used to cow you. It didn’t now. You struggled. You kicked, and you screamed, and you fought. You didn’t fight to win. You didn’t even fight to _get away_. You fought in hopes that they’d get frustrated enough with you and end it. End _you_. Because dying here was better than going back. 

_I can’t go back!_

“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll-“

“Do it,” you rasped out, throat sore from screaming. You stared him down, features set in a hard, determined expression that promised him hell if he didn’t listen. “You know you’re sick of coming after me. Thasar doesn’t pay you enough for this shit, and you know you want to be done with me. So just _do it._ ”

You couldn’t keep the slight hitch of desperation from seeping into your voice, and you instantly wished you had. Rhet’s harsh face once again relaxed into a smarmy expression.

“Ah, Y/N. Why would you ever think I’d give you something you wanted so badly?”

You opened your mouth to spit the most venomous, most heinous things you had ever thought at him, but he pulled his hand back before swiftly bringing it back down and hitting you over the head with the butt end of his blaster.

—

When you came to, you heard Meck telling Rhet and Gurn that Thasar was on his way. They weren’t dragging you back this time. No. This time, Thasar would drag you back himself.

Oddly, your body didn’t start to shake at that knowledge. What had become somewhat of a ritual of these three bringing you back to Thasar, you trembling with absolute terror the entire way… you just didn’t feel it now. Perhaps it was because you were resigned to your fate. Not the one where you lived out the remainder of your life enslaved to Thasar.

No.

You knew, deep down, you were going to find a way to provoke Thasar into killing you this time.

There was a sudden commotion around you. You had kept your eyes shut, doing your best to keep the throbbing in your skull from Rhet’s strike at bay. You could feel yourself in the cage too. It was the trio’s favorite way of transporting you every time you made it farther and farther away from Thasar. From the echoes of all the voices you heard, it sounded as if the four of you were in some sort of hangar, awaiting Thasar’s arrival.

Two new voices had joined Rhet and the others, though. You sat up slowly, clutching your head. You recognized the two intruders as some more of Thasar’s personal guards. One of them was holding a small bundle in his arms.

“What the fuck is that thing?” Rhet barked, pointing at the bundle. The guard holding it put up a placating hand.

“Listen Rhet, we’ve heard some stuff circulating around the Guild. They’re looking for this thing. We spotted the Razor Crest outside the city limits. We knew it belonged to a target that helped a bounty escape. This is the bounty!”

“I’m not following,” Rhet growled, his tone suggesting that if they didn’t help him understand in the next two seconds, they were both cannon fodder. The other guard tried his hand at an explanation.

“We knew the bounty was on the Razor Crest. So we broke into it and stole it. The Guild is asking for a seriously large amount of credits for this thing. We couldn’t just pass up the opportunity.”

“What about the target that helped it escape?” Meck asked. The first guard jumped back in.

“He wasn’t there. Fucking idiot left this thing by itself on the ship.”

“Yeah?” Rhet snarled “Well you better pray to the fucking gods he doesn’t find out who took it before Thasar arrives and we leave this planet. If this little side job causes any issues with our current mission, he’ll have both your heads.”

The two guards nodded vehemently and Rhet sighed.

“Throw it in the cage. At least make sure it can’t escape. If this ‘target’ shows up looking for it, kill him.”

You scooted to the back of the cage as the two guards made their way over. You’ve learned the hard way that the closer you are to the hatch whenever they opened it, the more likely you were to be tased. Hollowly, you watched as they quickly opened the hatch and tossed the bundle in. 

To your surprise, it released a sort of muffled squawking sound as it hit the steel bars. Something zinged painfully through your chest, the first emotion you had felt since waking here, knowing you were going to die soon. You watched in growing horror as the _thing_ they had been speaking so dispassionately about wiggled free of the bundle– which turned out to be blankets– and stood.

The thing, the _bounty_ , was nothing more than a small child. It was tiny and green, with a wrinkled little head, huge bat-like ears, and shockingly large, expressive dark eyes. It cooed curiously as it met your shocked gaze, blinking owlishly at you as if to ask what you were doing here.

With that one, simple look, suddenly everything your whole world had revolved around shifted, and your previous resolve shattered. Thasar could do _whatever_ he wanted with you, but you were not going to let him anywhere _near_ this child.

It was time to hatch a new escape plan.


	2. Negotiations

You spurred your mind into action, trying to think of ways to get both you, and now this child, out of this situation. As the gears started churning, you watched as the tiny green child looked around, taking in its surroundings. A very small pout started to form on its lips, its brow bone furrowing just slightly. Confused perhaps, wondering where its keeper might be. Its ears even dipped. **  
**

You didn’t like thinking of it as an _it_. You thought it was a boy, maybe, but you really had no idea. Until you knew better, you were going to assume it was a boy.

You carefully reached out for him, hoping to console that worried look on his face. You moved slowly, murmuring quietly and encouragingly, hoping not to startle him more than he probably already was. That, or not to spur him into biting you. As cute as he looked, you also weren’t too sure exactly _what_ he was.

He turned back towards you and watched your slowly approaching hand. He didn’t seem to hesitate long before his ears perked back up and he gurgled, stepping closer to you.

“Hey there, little guy,” you whispered. “You okay? That was a nasty tumble you just had.”

To be honest, he seemed more concerned about his whereabouts than the fact that he was just _thrown_ onto metal.

He held up a stubby, three-fingered hand and reached for yours. He grabbed onto your index finger and cooed contentedly. The absolutely absurd adorableness of it all broke your heart. Really, your life was a complete and utter shithole, and this, looking at this creature, _this_ is what shattered you into a million pieces? You strangely struggled to understand how you even existed before this moment.

What a strange and special kid.

Taking his actions as a sign that he was comfortable with you, you reached out with your other hand and lifted him, pulling him over to sit in your lap. He didn’t fuss. In fact, he seemed to hum with soft delight at the attention. And so, yes, as you stared into the fathomless depths of his large, dark eyes, your newest resolve settled.

No matter what happened to you, you were going to make sure this child got away safely.

So you brainstormed.

The two guards that had brought the child had gone to stand watch outside the hangar. It seemed like Meck had joined them as well, leaving only Rhet and Gurn. Rhet had his eyes on you, snorting as he saw you holding the kid.

“Scheming face?” Gurn asked in response to the sound. He was leaning back in his seat, hands clasped behind his head, not even bothering to properly watch over you. Unlike Rhet, Gurn enjoyed hunting and chasing down his prey. It was just in his nature. If you were going to try and scheme another escape, he wasn’t going to stop you right away. Chasing you gave him something _fun_ to do.

“Definitely,” Rhet answered, eyes never leaving yours. You flipped him your middle finger, and he just chortled, shaking his head and muttering, “Earthlings,” under his breath, not really understanding that you were telling him to fuck off.

Pretty soon an idea started to tickle its way into your mind. You didn’t quite like it, though, as it suggested using something that was pretty unreliable to you at best. However, if you were going to try it on anyone, you’d want it to be Gurn. He was a lot easier to influence than Rhet or Meck, usually one to follow his urges than pursue logic.

For now, you tried to stick a pin in that idea and think of something else while you softly bounced the kid. He just continued to divide his attention between you and his surroundings, not quite sure what to make of the cage. For some reason, though, this idea kept sneaking up to the front of your mind and you started to feel frustrated.

There was this sort of _thing_ you could do. But only sometimes, and often not very well. You weren’t well practiced in it, and whenever you tried to do it, all it did was wear you out without any satisfying results. The only times you had ever successfully used it had been when you were a child, long before you were sold to Thasar. If it hadn’t been helpful during the last ten years of being enslaved to that monster, then it was unlikely to be helpful now.

Still, something was _telling_ you to try. At the very least, just try it.

 _Fine_ , you thought to yourself, annoyed. _If Rhet somehow miraculously leaves, I’ll try it on Gurn._

Just as you were thinking this, to your surprise, Rhet stood and marched over to Gurn.

“Hey,” Rhet chided, kicking Gurn’s hooked legs that were stretched out before him. Gurn jerked into a more upright position and glared up a Rhet.

“Piss break,” was Rhet’s reply. “Keep your eyes open long enough to make sure she doesn’t try anything stupid.”

And just like that, he left. What were the fucking chances?

Your eyes followed him out of the hangar before shifting over towards Gurn. He nodded towards you and grumbled, “You gonna try anything stupid?”

“I think you’d love nothing more than if I did,” you said, and clutched the child to your chest before standing. Gurn’s deep chuckle echoed throughout the hangar and he stood as well.

“You had that look on your face a bit ago. That scheming one. You must have thought of something.” Gurn walked over to the cage, smirking down at the child in your arms before turning that gaze on you.

“I did think of something. Wanna see it?”

There was a glint in his eye then, a small spark at the thought of having something to chase again.

“Give it your best shot, Earthling.”

You shared a conspiratorial smile with him, and cleared everything from your mind except for how badly you wanted to influence his thoughts. You took a steadying breath in through your nose, and then-

“You will let me out of this cage, and point me towards the best escape route.”

For a solid beat, Gurn stared at you, blank-faced, glassy-eyed, and you thought, _Holy shit, did I-_

Gurn threw his head back and roared with laughter.

“Fuck,” you hissed, blinking dazedly up at him. Something had happened, but it hadn’t worked right. All it did was leave you feeling slightly lightheaded.

_Try again._

How or why you felt this _so strongly_ was beyond you, but you waited for Gurn to quiet, for him to say something like “Yeah, that _was_ pretty stupid,” and cleared your mind once again. You steeled your expression, met his eyes as his laughter died down and said, “You will let me out of this cage, and point me towards the best escape route.”

Gurn’s smile fell and he seemed to straighten somewhat.

“I will let you out of this cage, and point you towards the best escape route.”

Swaying a little, you lurched forward as he pulled out the keys and unlocked the hatch. Without a second’s hesitation, he pointed towards the opposite end of the hangar from where Rhet had left. Still clutching the child in one arm, you snatched the keys from Gurn as he started to blink. You shoved him with all your might into the cage and then locked the hatch. You turned, and just as you were about to pitch the keys across the hangar, a loud explosion sounded from the direction Rhet had gone.

You looked down at the child and said, “Time to go,” threw the keys, and sprinted down the hangar towards Gurn’s exit. Within a few minutes you were back in the streets, running as fast and as far as you could from the escalating sounds of shouts and blaster fire emanating from the hangar. 

_Now what?_

You weren’t exactly sure what course of action to take next. You still hadn’t formed a great escape-from-the-cage plan before you tried something you were _sure_ wasn’t going to work. Only it had. It must have been a fluke, you were sure-

_Are you really staring a gift horse in the mouth right now? Take this for what it is and find a way off this planet!_

You hunkered down under some scaffolding in an alley several blocks from the hangar to catch your breath and _think_. Perhaps you could go back to the original plan you had formulated when you fled the bar. Hide until dark, steal the parts, fix the ship, leave. Only, hiding until dark no longer seemed like a plausible option. Rhet would find you. He always did. And now you had this kid, who seemed surprisingly unperturbed by all the running and frantic energy-

_Wait, the kid!_

You quickly glanced back down at him. He had his small hands resting lightly on your arm wrapped around his middle, and his ears moved up and down, eyes swinging this way and that way, just taking everything in with mild interest. You forced yourself to focus. Right, the kid. Hadn’t one of the guards said they broke into a Razor Crest and snatched him? They said that they had known the ship belonged to a target being hunted by the Guild. A target that had helped a bounty escape. _This_ bounty. 

_That_ was your ticket off this planet. Find the Razor Crest, find the child’s keeper, then proposition your daring rescue of the child for safe passage off this planet. 

_Okay. Alright. That seems easy enough. I can do this!_

Except you had a sneaking suspicion that the explosion and blaster fire you had heard back at the hangar might have been caused by the ‘target’. You shook your head. It didn’t matter. When he realized Rhet and the others didn’t have the child, he’d have to make his way back to his ship at some point. Although, if you waited long enough and it seemed like Thasar’s thugs had actually killed him… then you were sure that he’d want nothing more than to have his kid’s rescuer take the ship and get him somewhere safe. 

Decisions made, you readjusted your hold on the child, turning him so that his face was tucked against your chest. You clambered out from under the scaffolding and turned towards the south exit of the alley. This way would lead you to the outskirts of town where many people harbored their ships. You had landed the one you’d stolen from Thasar a little more out of the way, and you imagined that this ‘target’ had most likely done the same. You were going to find out one way or another. 

Before you could take another step, however, the scaffolding above you groaned, and you glanced up in time to see a figure hop off the top rungs and land a few feet in front of you, blocking one of your escapes. Gasping, you took a few steps back, ready to turn and run, or duck Rhet’s grasp- 

Only, it wasn’t Rhet, and their arm wasn’t swinging up to grab for you. You froze as you stared down the barrel of a blaster. 

“Give me the kid.”

You started at the sound of a low, modulated voice. When your brain stopped screaming every curse you could think of, you were able to take a second to actually look at who held you at gunpoint. 

It was the Mandalorian. 

“Give me the kid,” he said again, slowly, voice lower to emphasize the threat. As if the blaster wasn’t enough. Or the fact that the man was a walking suit of weapons. 

Being from Earth, and having spent the last ten years that you _weren’t_ on Earth confined to Thasar’s estate, you really didn’t know a whole lot about the rest of the galaxy. You had tried to read about such things, to learn about different places, and languages, and races. Much like you had started to do with different countries on Earth. But the key word there was ‘tried’.

Regardless, you didn’t learn about the Mandalorians from books. You only gathered what information you could from Zekir’s stories. He idolized them and often relayed the legends that he knew. So you were very aware of the fact that you were in the presence of a hardened warrior. An elite warrior. And a hunter, you remembered, recalling your encounter with him at the bar. 

He was a hunter, looking for work.

You took a small step back, shaking your head. You clutched at the kid with both arms now, eyes never leaving where you imagined the Mandalorian’s own eyes would be. 

“I wouldn’t let those assholes that were on my tail take him back to the Guild,” you said, pleased with the steadiness of your own voice. “I don’t care if you’re a Mandalorian, I’m not going to let you take him back either.”

You knew you were no match for a Mandalorian. But your freaky-psychic-mind-trick had worked on Gurn just now. Maybe, just maybe, you could do it again. Or at least confuse the guy long enough to make a break for it. Before, you had been willing to fight to your own demise in order to avoid your recapture. It didn’t matter that you had just met this child and were already willing to do the same for him. It didn’t matter that you were willing to put a stranger’s life above your own. You saw this child being hunted for a profit, and it was like you were seeing yourself from ten years in the past. You _would not_ let this child fall into the same fate. 

You had expected the Mandalorian to say something like, “You don’t have much of a choice in this matter.” He had the blaster. He had the arsenal resting in his armor. He had the skills to kill you without even batting an eye. You _really_ didn’t have much of a choice.

However, after holding your gaze for a long breath, he lowered the blaster. You blinked, confused, and watched as he holstered it, then held both his hands up, unarmed. 

“I’m not trying to take the kid back to the Guild.”

You took another step back and cocked your head, skeptical, sure it was a trick. But why? He just had a blaster pointed at you. Why would he try to trick you? 

“The kid is with me. Those thugs took him from _my_ ship.”

“You- you’re the target the Guild is looking for?” you asked incredulously. “You’re the one who helped this child escape being a bounty?”

The Mandalorian gave a single nod, hands still raised, palms spread open placatingly.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” 

_Umm, maybe because he could have just blasted you and took the child, but didn’t?_

It seemed that the Mandalorian didn’t even have to answer that question, though. At the first sound of the Mandalorian’s voice, the child had started to wiggle in your arms. Initially, you had thought he was finally starting to feel distressed. But once he turned enough to see the Mandalorian, he released a torrent of squealed giggling and wriggled in earnest, as if reaching for him. 

“ _Oh_ ,” you breathed, realization dawning. “Well… he does seem to know you.”

The Mandalorian nodded once again, lowering his arms. You observed that gesture, but his fingers didn’t flex back towards his blaster. 

“Firstly,” you began, tightening your arms around the squirming child. “I heard them talking about how they found the kid. You’re an absolute idiot for leaving a child alone on a ship.”

His head tilted slightly, his body language expressing what almost felt like disbelief. 

_Oh yeah, sure, good plan. Insult a Mandalorian. The guy you’re about to ask for transport. Real smooth._

“Secondly, before I return him to you, I ask that you agree to do something for me first.”

He stiffened. 

“Are you holding him hostage then?”

“N-no,” you stuttered, realizing how your words had been taken. “Of course not. I just meant that I- well, I rescued him. I am asking for a favor in return.”

He released the tension in his shoulders then, understanding. He seemed about to respond when a shadow passed over the walls in the alley. You stole a glance over your shoulder and sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of Gurn at the alley entrance. His face was a mask of rage, clearly not enjoying _this_ hunt after you had tricked him so spectacularly. He held up a blaster. 

You spun, flight response taking over, but it was too late. You heard the sound of the blaster and tossed the child in the Mandalorian’s direction. You had tried to be gentle about it, but it had been such a gut response. In that split second, all you could think was of that blaster shot going clean through you and hitting the child too. You just hoped the Mandalorian was close enough to catch him. 

He wasn’t. He had been lunging towards you, but was still too far. The kid tumbled to the ground, and a white-hot pain lanced through your right side.

Your cry was choked out by the air leaving your lungs. Your strength abandoned you and you fell forward, gasping, ears ringing, vision blurring.

“Gurn, you fucking lunatic, Thasar wants her _alive_!”

That was Rhet’s voice. There were more footfalls coming into the alley. The sound was mingling with the ringing. You tried to catch your breath, and blinked up from your spot on the ground, alley spinning and churning. You watched with a last shred of hope as the Mandalorian drew closer to the child-

“Stop!” You heard Rhet bark, and the Mandalorian froze. You were sure that if all weapons had been trained solely on him, he would have kept going. Wearing beskar probably gave you a sense that you could run into battle and take a few shots without having to worry about _actually_ getting hit. So you knew that, because he had stopped, weapons were aimed at the kid too. 

Panting and gritting your teeth to keep from screaming at the pain in your side, you glanced back over your shoulder and confirmed it. Meck and Rhet both had their blasters aimed at the child. Gurn kept his on you, though, as he stepped up to you. Not too gently, he pushed a colossal boot into your back, effectively holding you down and pulling a cry from your throat. 

_Breathe. It’s not even a lethal shot. It’s just a graze. You’ve had worse._

You tried to pull some air in through your nose, but Gurn kept pushing into your back, and with each twist of his foot came a new wave of agony. 

“I said stop, Mando! You move another inch and no one will be collecting that bounty.”

You saw the Mandalorian’s outstretched hands clench into fists. Something glowed on his vambraces, like he was preparing to strike. You were certain he could take down all three men, but didn’t want him to try, risking the child. Perhaps he didn’t see a choice other than to fight. But you did.

“W-wait,” you breathed out. “Rhet, wait.”

Rhet glanced down at you, looking for all the world like he rather shoot you than listen to anything you had to say.

“You really want to risk Thasar showing up and realizing I’m not there waiting for him? You didn’t like that your backups had gone after this child to begin with. You knew it was going to interfere with your mission.”

You could see Rhet’s jaw clenching. The pain in your side started to ebb, at least enough so you could focus on persuading Rhet.

“You know this guy is a Mandalorian. You take the kid, he won’t stop coming after you. You kill the kid, and he’ll cut us all down right here. Either way, something will get in the way of you taking me back.”

Rhet shot the Mandalorian a glare, like it was his fault the guards were stupid enough to steal from him and keep Rhet from doing his job.

“So let them go.”

Both Rhet and the Mandalorian’s heads snapped your way, but you only had eyes for Rhet.

“You’ve got me. Thanks to Gurn, I’m not going anywhere. They’re not a part of this, and you don’t need the extra hassle. So take me, and let them go.”

Rhet held your eye, contemplating, most likely thinking out every way this could be a trick. When he seemed satisfied that it wasn’t, and that he agreed this was the best option to finishing his job, he nodded towards Meck. Gurn removed his foot from your back and both he and Meck grabbed your arms, hauling you up. You tried to swallow the yelp of pain, but couldn’t quite manage it.

Rhet turned back towards the Mandalorian, weapon still held on the kid. You noticed then that he seemed alright. Much like the tumble he had in the cage, the child seemed wholly unaffected by the fall. He did seem to understand that he needed to stay still, though, observing the standoff with twitching ears and blinking eyes.

“Listen Mando. I don’t work for the Guild. My boss sent me after his _daughter_ -” your flinch at that word was involuntary, “-and my men went after the kid without my say-so. The girl is right. I don’t need this hassle; I’m just trying to get the job done. Something tells me you can understand that. So why don’t you take your kid there and go on about your business, and we’ll go on about ours.”

For the smallest second, the Mandalorian met your eyes. Or at least, you assumed he did, that _feeling_ of his stare on you settling in your chest again. You gave him a curt, imperceptible nod.

“Go,” you whispered, voice urgent. “ _Go_.”

He did as he was told. He scooped up the child and backed slowly out of the alley, never trusting his back to your companions until he was out of sight.

“Let’s move,” Rhet snapped, turning towards the opposite end of the alley.

“Better hurry, Rhet,” Meck insisted. He nodded towards the comms device strapped to his wrist, suggesting he’d received a message during all this.

“Thasar’s already landed.”


	3. Resolve

The thing about most blaster wounds is that they’re almost always instantly cauterized on impact. For a wound like yours, where nothing vital was hit, that was great. Except you weren’t exactly trying to survive this trek back to the hangar, or even the inevitable encounter with Thasar. 

With the child safe, you were now back to the I-am-not-going-back-with-Thasar-no-matter-what-happens-to-me plan. You thrashed and wriggled against Meck and Gurn’s tight grips, hoping to agitate the wound enough for it to reopen. But it didn’t do any good, and it caused you to momentarily blackout twice from pain. When you had succumbed to one of those debilitating moments, you had been just outside the hangar. When your focus returned, Meck and Gurn were coming to a halt in what looked like a large workshop that was either within the hangar itself, or somewhere near it.

The terror you had been holding back while first in the cage now gripped your entire body. Standing there, on a slightly raised workspace, staring out a north-facing window, was Thasar. His back was to you, his hands clasped lightly behind him. Anyone that didn’t know Thasar would see this casual pose and believe him at ease.

But you knew better. You could feel his rage boiling beneath the surface.

“I don’t know how many times we’ve played this little game of yours, Y/N,” he said.

Thasar’s voice wasn’t loud, or menacing. He spoke evenly, almost emotionlessly, always the dignified man. He was always so cool and collected, never seeming to outwardly show his emotions. When he did, you knew then that you should be afraid. For now, there was only an inflection to the way he spoke that was as cold and sharp as a shard of ice. You shuddered.

“Far too many times for my liking,” Thasar continued. “It ends today.”

_Yes_ , you thought. _I suppose it does_.

Thasar turned away from the window to face you. You had never really known _what_ he was. He looked like a human male, a handsome one even, with pale skin and dark black hair that fell to his collarbone… but he also had striking, eerie yellow eyes.

Those eyes softened to a contemplative sadness, and as if you weren’t already on edge, your entire body tensed.

_Fake._

“I just don’t understand, Y/N,“ Thasar said, sounding heartbroken and wounded.

_False._

“I’ve given you everything.”

_Liar._

“I found you.”

_You bought me._

“I’ve given you luxurious clothes, jewels, and trinkets. I’ve fed you nothing but the finest.”

_Bribes._

“I’ve hired you the best tutors.”

_I only learned what you wanted me to learn._

“I gave you a family.”

_Bastard. Fake, lying, manipulative bastard._

“I treated you like my own daughter.” Thasar sighed and closed his eyes, as if pained. His next words would be his final blow in this charade. The words that used to drive the wedge of guilt you felt every time you defied him in so deep, you actually started to consider that _you_ were the one who was wrong. That you could forgive him.

“I _believed_ you my own daughter.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed through clenched teeth, trembling no longer from fear, but from rage. It was so easy to feel this way now, to understand his game like you did now after all this time. Because it had taken you years to realize he was playing you. _Years_.

That’s why you were so terrified of him. You had been _so desperate_ for _so long_ to finally belong somewhere. To be something to someone. To not feel so lost. And he knew it. Like he’d said, he had given you all these wonderful things so you wouldn’t look too hard at the things he made you do, at how things really were. He created a smokescreen of family and love, and made you feel needed. But it was all surface level, to distract you from the reality of it all.

And any time you started to question it, any time you started to poke at that flimsy surface, he would put on this act as if you had hurt him and disregarded his kindness, rejected his so-called love. For a while, you felt so, _so_ guilty…

But no one should ever be made to feel guilty for wanting more, for wanting what is best for themselves.

When that act started to not work as much anymore, Thasar tried other methods. Consequences for actions, much like any other healthy teaching method a parent would use on their child. Only, Thasar’s punishments were not healthy, or even of an equal response to your rebellions. And they escalated exponentially over the years.

Thinking about that now only made that rage in you boil hotter, and you jerked against Meck and Gurn’s hold on your arms, anticipating that those punishments were soon coming. However, as Thasar’s yellow eyes steeled over at your words, seeing that his once so easily accepted tricks weren’t going to work this time, you knew he was about to start saying things that did much worse damage to you than make you feel guilty.

But you were prepared this time. You knew what was coming. Just like his false proclamations of love and family, you could see past his next words…

Thasar’s eyes flickered over towards Rhet.

“Did you hear anything more on the Mandalorian?”

Your heartbeat staggered and you flinched. _Damn it!_ Of course he knew about the Mandalorian. Rhet must have informed him of the situation during their trek back to the hangar while you were busy screaming curses and thrashing about. It was such a deliberate question too. You knew that, and you had still reacted. And Thasar noticed.

He noticed everything.

“One of your men sent word that he had boarded his ship and took off about ten minutes ago, boss,” Rhet responded.

_He’s **gone**._

“No,” you silently breathed to yourself, quelling the familiar empty feeling that tickled at the edges of your own rational thoughts. You were relieved he was gone. That’s what you wanted, for the kid to get away, to not fall into the same fate as yours. You were glad that the Mandalorian had taken him away from here, away from Thasar.

You gave yourself a moment to breathe, to reach back for that anger towards Thasar. That’s what you needed your mind to focus on, not cleaving itself in two, separating your anxious thoughts from your rational ones. That was how he won.

But Thasar was an expert at tearing you apart.

“It seems you were right then, Rhet. He really wasn’t going to risk coming after my dear Y/N.”

You reeled backwards as if his words had slapped you, breath escaping you.

_No! Don’t let him get to you-_

_**The Mandalorian didn’t even think twice, did he?** _

_NO! This is what Thasar wants. Don’t fall for it!_

**_He left. He didn’t even hesitate._ **

It was too late…

_Think about it rationally. He had to leave. He’s protecting that child. That is his priority. You are a stranger to him._

**_But you helped him. You helped save his child. Why couldn’t he have helped you in return?_ **

_It would have risked the child being taken again. You know that._

You started to pant, and clutched your eyes shut, sweat trickling down from your temples. You tried so hard to mend your thoughts back together again. But all it had taken was a few deliberate words to send yourself at war with your own worst enemy.

Yourself.

_**He’s a Mandalorian.** _

_Don’t do this. You’re just giving Thasar what he wants._

**_He could have helped you, so easily._ **

_Stop it!_

_**And he left you behind. Just like everyone else.** _

As if he could read your anxious thoughts, Thasar’s voice cut its way into your storming mind.

“You risked your own escape to help him. Did you think, perhaps, that he would help you in return?”

**_How deluded were you to think that he would?_ **

_I didn’t!_

“My poor, misguided Y/N. Don’t you know why he never would have even considered such a thing?”

_**You know why.** _

_No, stop this! Stop feeding into his game!_

“Because you are _nothing_.”

Suddenly, there was a harrowing silence, save for the echo of his words, both in his voice, and the voice of your own anxious thoughts, endlessly fading into the void of darkness that had become your mind.

**_You are nothing._ **

**_You are nothing._ **

**_You are nothing._ **

Thasar never had to lay a hand on you to hurt you. Granted, he did cause physical damage, but usually not with his own hands. However, he knew that wounds healed. Perhaps some wounds left scars, but those could be covered. He learned soon enough that you could bounce back from the physical pain.

But this? He knew exactly how to sap the fight out of you, and no matter how prepared you thought you were, it worked. Every time. You felt all your strength leave you and Meck and Gurn allowed you to fall to your knees, staring at the ground before you, seeing nothing.

This is why you had rather die than go back to him.

“You are nothing to him, Y/N,” Thasar continued, and you vaguely heard him step off the workspace, thudding footfalls heading towards you. He’d already won. But you had caused him a lot of trouble this time. He was going to make you suffer for it.

“Without me, you are nothing at all. You were being abandoned by family after family until I found you. Without me, your existence is meaningless. Insignificant. And yet, you continue to run from everything I have so graciously given you?”

Thasar’s fingers brushed gently under your chin, and he lifted your hollow gaze to meet his piercing, venomous yellow stare.

“This ends today, Y/N”

You didn’t argue. You couldn’t think anymore. Couldn’t comprehend his words anymore. All you could hear, over and over, was-

_**You are nothing.** _

“Rhet,” Thasar said, and dropped his hold on your chin. You breifly caught the motion of Thasar tossing something behind you in Rhet’s direction. You knew what it was. And yet, despite that, you couldn’t bring yourself to care, to anticipate and prepare for the pain that was coming.

“Double, I think,” Thasar ordered. You heard the familiar sound of a long strip unwinding, of its concentrated leathery tip lightly brushing against the ground. Meck and Gurn each grabbed at your shirt and gave sharp yanks, ripping it to reveal your back. A canvas for new scars to join the ones already crisscrossing their way down your skin, interrupted only by the band covering your chest. 

“You’re going to count them this time, Y/N. Or every time you miss one, we’ll start over.”

Maybe, if you didn’t count the lashings, Thasar would make Rhet keep going until you were dead.

“And when it’s finished, Rhet,” Thasar added as a final instruction, stepping back to watch the punishment unfold. “Break her ankles.”

_What?_

Some semblance of self came back to you at those words, slammed into you even. Your head shot back up to meet Thasar’s expression, and you saw that his anger had sharpened into a stone-faced resolution.

“Shatter them, so that even when they heal, it won’t be possible for her to run again.”

You felt the smallest moment of shock and horror as everything around you fell silent. And then, some kind of tether deep inside snapped, the sounds of _everything_ – or perhaps it was just your own voice screaming– crashed upon you, drowning out the echo of, “ ** _You are nothing._** ” Some kind of force rushed out of you and all four men flew back, Thasar more than the others, hitting the window behind him so hard it vibrated and cracked.

You instantly felt weak, knowing you had just expended a great deal of energy, but you didn’t care. Everything was in convergence within you. The fear, rage, loneliness, emptiness, despair, _everything_.

“W-what is this,” Thasar asked, struggling to right himself, but finding he was unable to. The pressure of whatever power you were using on him was crushing him against that window.

You could feel that force in you wavering, so you threw up your left hand, hoping somehow that would hold it. You didn’t care if you had to expend every ounce of energy you had. Thasar had said this was all going to end today, so you were going to make sure that it did. 

Because as deep as Thasar’s words always seemed to cleave, as much as you feared that they were true and you sank into that darkness of self doubt, something deep, deep inside you always screamed, and fought, and raged that he was wrong. 

You were not nothing, and you owed it to yourself to spend your life proving it. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Rhet recover and steady himself for an offensive attack. You threw up your right hand, side screaming at the motion. You willed that power to come to your aid again, but it seemed as if you were spending it all on holding Thasar. Rhet lunged before you could come up with a backup plan and-

He disintegrated. Your eyes widened. One second he was flying at you, the next he was nothing more than a pile of clothes and ash. You heard as both Meck and Gurn exclaimed in alarm, just as bewildered as you were. However, you weren’t exactly complaining. 

You barely had time to register your long time hunter’s abrupt demise when, in your shock and confusion, you felt your power slip, then release entirely. You spun back towards Thasar to see him fall forward. You glanced right first to face Gurn, but he too was suddenly vaporized in the blink of an eye. You knew that it wasn’t your power doing this, and quite frankly, you didn’t care if the fire raining down on you was friendly or not. You just had to get to Thasar. 

You turned left towards Meck to see him take aim at you with his blaster. Zekir’s training caused your instincts to kick in again and you swung your arm up and wide, catching his wrist and breaking his aim. Holding onto that wrist you rushed into his personal space, using your momentum to smash your elbow into his face. Your side protested, loudly. But you ignored it, and once again, you brought up your knee. This time you aimed a little bit lower than his stomach, and hit him twice. Always two times.

He fell with a shout of pain and dropped his blaster. You dived, snatched it up, and rose in time to see Meck take a large, orange blaster shot to the back and disintegrate into nothing like his two companions. 

Only Thasar remained. You trained the blaster on him, only to see that he had gotten to his feet and made a run for you. He pulled up short when he realized you were aiming at him, and met your eyes. For a moment, his yellow eyes became contemplative as they jumped between you and the blaster. But when you went several seconds without shooting him, the corner of his lip twitched, and he was smirking. 

Your heart hammered and your grip tightened, but you knew he had caught the slight tremor in your hand. 

“Are you going to kill me, Y/N?”

You waited. You weren’t sure why. You had wanted this for so long; to be free from the things Thasar made you do, from the things he said to keep you tame. To be free from Thasar _entirely._ But you hesitated. Perhaps you thought he might grovel for his life. That you’d see him as a coward for once, and not the terrifying bastard that earned his arrogance, his control of everything. 

But there was no fear in his eyes. Just a sense of knowing. 

“Ah, I don’t think you will,” he said, straightening now. You followed his every movement with the blaster. He eyed you for another moment before glancing over towards where Meck had been standing only moments before. He nodded towards his remains. 

“I must admit, that was a rather impressive display. I hadn’t realized just how much Zekir had taught you. Fighting, and how to use that blaster I’m sure.”

You visibly started at that, and Thasar’s smirk grew. 

“Oh yes, I know about you and Zekir. Granted, I didn’t know until you left him a bloody mess in my landing bay. The two of you were very sneaky, indeed. He tried to play it off, as if he had tried to stop you but you had gotten the better of him. I’m sure that was what you had intended to happen by leaving him alive. That he could keep his cover and appear as if he had never helped you escape. You did _owe_ him that much, after all.”

More pointed words. The things he said were always so _deliberate_. You tried to keep your hand from shaking harder. 

“He even offered to go after you. I didn’t doubt that he’d bring you back, perhaps thinking that putting you back where you didn’t want to be a suitable punishment for your betrayal. But I had been suspicious of him for quite some time. Finding him bested by a feeble, little Earthling in the loading bay? That only solidified my thoughts. So I took him in for some questioning. Didn’t take much. He told me _everything_ , save for all the places we could find you. He knew I’d keep him alive longer if he only revealed parts of your escape route at a time. I played along, until we found you here. I had planned to have _you_ kill him when we returned, but alas, I got word on my way here that he had managed to slip away.”

That made your breath catch. Zekir was out there somewhere? Free from Thasar and hell-bent on repaying you for your betrayal, you had no doubt. You knew Thasar wouldn’t care enough about Zekir’s escape to do anything more than throw a bounty on his head, and Zekir had been the one to teach you how to avoid bounty hunters. Even if you could free yourself from Thasar now, you would still have to watch your back for someone who wanted you perhaps just as badly. 

Again, Thasar seemed so in tune with your thoughts, he sneered as he continued. 

“You knew you were painting another target on your back when you left Zekir alive. But you just didn’t have it in you to kill him. Just like you don’t have it in you kill me now.”

You released a shuddering breath, stepping away from him, hands still shaking.

“You’ve had so many opportunities in the last decade to finish me, Y/N, but you could never bring yourself to do it. Even now, I am the simplest target you could ask for, and yet, here we stand. You couldn’t kill Zekir, and now, you can’t kill me. Why do you think that is?”

There it was again. That all-knowing tone in his voice. It was like hearing a weapon charging to fire. You steeled your spine, gritted your teeth, and hardened your grip so tight, your knuckles were turning white against the blaster. 

“No matter what you might think of me, you won’t kill me. Because, deep down, you know the truth. You know that you are _nothing_ without-”

You shot him. 

Thasar staggered back a step, mouth gaping, and finally, _finally_ , you saw fear and disbelief flicker in those cold, merciless eyes. He slowly glanced down at the smoking hole in his chest. Before he fell, he met your eyes, and this time they were filled with a sense of wonder. Maybe even admiration. 

You screwed up your face at the pang that look sent through your chest and shot him again. 

He toppled like a statue, and as you saw the light leave his eyes you resolutely said, “I am _everything_ without you.”

You stared at Thasar’s lifeless form for several long minutes, not really sure if you felt happy, sad, angry, or just tired. Maybe all of those at once. But you stifled whatever aftermath those emotions could wage on you, remembering that you had a guest. 

You turned slowly, and were met by the Mandalorian standing beside a pillar off to the right. He held a rifle in his hands, standing ready behind you in case you needed the backup. Just like he had provided against Rhet, Gurn, and Meck. A weapon that could vaporize your enemies? You saw firsthand just how handy a weapon like that could be in his line of work.

For a moment, you were hesitant to address him. As soon as Gurn went down and you had realized that it wasn’t you turning Thasar’s thugs into dust, a part of you had hoped it was him. But you had shut that thought down amidst all the other chaos swimming in your brain because you knew he wouldn’t have risked the child or himself to rescue a stranger. And yet, here he was, and you weren’t quite sure you could trust his reason why. 

“They said you’d left,” you murmured carefully. 

The Mandalorian nodded once, clipped the rifle to his back, and took a few steps to close the distance between you. You resisted the urge to step back. 

“I needed them to think I wasn’t doubling back for you,” was all he said in explanation. 

“Why _did_ you double back?” You were afraid of the answer. You knew from Zekir that help of this magnitude came with a price. 

The Mandalorian stopped just a few feet in front of you, head tilting slightly, as if the answer was obvious. You held the feeling of his gaze through his visor. 

“You risked your life to help the kid escape. Then again when you were shot at. And again when we were cornered and you negotiated our getaway. That’s three life debts. You asked me for a favor. Figured this was it,” he finished, mildly gesturing at the mess around you. 

You sighed in relief. He wasn’t asking for a price for his help. He was repaying the price of yours. You could understand that. 

“It wasn’t initially,” you replied, and forced a small, fatigued smile. “But it will do. You took down those three, so I think that makes us even.”

He paused, as if he was tempted to accept that and leave it be. But then he glanced over to where Meck last stood. 

“The last one didn’t count. You took care of him. I only made sure he wouldn’t get back up.” 

You had to laugh at that. Gods, it was such a morbid thing to laugh at, but you couldn’t help it. Sure, he had stolen a child and accrued a debt he seemed hell-bent on not paying. But he seemed honorable in paying the debts that mattered. You’d make it easy on him, though. You could really use an escort back to your ship, just in case you passed out on your way. 

Whatever power you used today had drained you. That physical exhaustion, plus the emotional exhaustion that came from facing and killing Thasar had nearly taken everything you had. There was also the fact that you had finally tore at the injury on your side. Figures you’d start to bleed when you didn’t want to. 

All that said, you were sure you also looked like a haggard mess. Your side bleeding, your shirt torn, holding onto you by your sleeves to cover your front, but leaving your back bare for all to see. Your face and hair were still a mess too, from the role you had been playing the last few days. There were probably many other signs of visible wear and tear on you as well. 

Just as you were about to ask the Mandalorion to take you back to your ship without anyone noticing, you glanced around him, remembering the kid and hoping you would get to see him one last time. 

“Where’s the child, by the way?”

You met his gaze again, unable to fight the smile at the thought of seeing him. This was probably not the best environment to bring him into, but you were sure that the Mandalorian’s protection, even while fighting, was better than leaving him on the ship by himself. 

The Mandalorian’s delay in answering was so palpable, you could just imagine a pair of eyes shifting to the side under that helmet. You jerked upright in realization, a motion that surprisingly shot a dull pain from to top of your head to the tips of your toes in a staggering wave. 

“You left him on the ship again, didn’t you?”

You took a step forward, impetuously meaning to get in his face and give him shit for making the same mistake as before. You realized then that you were _not_ stable. Your vision tunneled, and the room spun, the Mandalorian moving with it. But you didn’t care that you were dead on your feet, or that he had the ability to turn you to ash if he felt crossed. You just couldn’t believe that he’d done this, _again_. 

“You idiot,” you swayed. “You’re not supposed to-” your voice faltered. “-to leave a child-” you could feel yourself teetering. “-alone like that…”

The Mandalorian stepped forward and caught you as you fell. You didn’t quite pass out, but the room was coming in and out of focus, and behind your outrage at this _stupid man_ , you could tell that you wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. 

The Mandalorian sighed heavily as he seemed to realize this too. He reached up and unclipped his cape before awkwardly wrapping it around your back with one hand, while his other held you up in a semi-reclined position. Then, with that arm still on your back, he hooked the other under your knees and hoisted you up, carrying you out of the workshop. You were too exhausted to fight it. 

“Come on. Let’s see about that last favor and get you patched up.”


	4. Proposition

You faded in and out as the Mandalorian made his way through backstreets and alleys until he reached the edge of town. You had tried to insist that you could walk, but all that really came out of your mouth was quiet babbling. Even if the Mandalorian understood what you were saying, you both knew your words were false. You could barely keep your eyes open, let alone walk.

It wasn’t until you heard the hiss and groan of the ramp on his ship that you gained back some solid consciousness. You peeked your eyes open, and took in what you guessed was the Razor Crest those guards had been talking about before. It seemed more rugged than the fancier ships Thasar had always kept, but you supposed that was ideal for a hardened warrior traversing the galaxy for his next hunt.

The ramp hit the ground with a dull thud, and the Mandalorian stepped onto it. You stiffened.

“I’d rather not get on your ship.” You thanked the gods your words were coherent this time.

The Mandalorian paused for a second, contemplating his response.

“The kid is in there,” he said. Then, as an afterthought– as if the child’s presence alone should put you at ease but realizing that it might not– he added, “I’ll leave the ramp open.” 

You had to remind yourself that this was a man that had helped a child escape being hunted. That he had also just saved _your_ skin because he saw honor in repaying life debts. He was just trying to finish repaying those debts now, and you were being difficult. You heaved a sigh and nodded.

The Mandalorian trudged up the ramp and entered the hull of the ship. The far wall housed what looked like a metal closet, a work counter, a small carbon-freezing chamber, and several military-grade bins filled with gods knew what. You eyed the carbon-freezing chamber warily, but all the Mandalorian did was ask if you were steady enough for him to set you down.

You assented, and after he did so, he cleared a large bin against the wall and motioned for you to take a seat. You did, gingerly, your body starting to feel every ache and pain of the last few hours.

The first thing he did once you sat was lean over to his left and tap at a panel of buttons on the adjacent wall. A door slid open, and standing atop a slide-in cot was the child. You made an indignant noise at the thought of the Mandalorian not only leaving the child alone on the ship, but also shutting him into a cubby.

“He was sleeping when I left,” the Mandalorian tried to explain. You just shook your head.

He picked the child up and placed him down at his feet. The little green creature instantly waddled up to your leg and craned his head back to look up at you.

“Hey there, kiddo.” You gave him a weak smile. “Remember me?”

He merely cooed in response and continued to stare at you with intermittent, languid blinks.

The Mandalorian rummaged through a few things on the work counter before pulling up a medical kit. He popped it open and grabbed some disinfectant spray and a large bacta patch.

“Didn’t have any of those on you? We could have done this back at the hangar.”

He shook his head. “I don’t normally carry any of this on me.”

You gave him a disbelieving look. “What if you’re injured on the job? How would you treat your more serious wounds?”

He shrugged. “If I sustain anything substantial I usually cauterize it.”

Your disbelief morphed into bewildered incredulousness, but you didn’t press the subject as he knelt down beside you. He held out his hand to take his cape back, and then gestured towards your shirt.

“You’ll have to toss that, it’s not mendable. I can find you something to replace it for the time being.”

You agreed and stripped the remainder of your torn shirt off your shoulders and tossed it aside. The last ten years had done well to chase away any sense of modesty you might have had once upon a time, and your chest was covered by a band, so you didn’t feel too self-conscious sitting like this before him. The only thing that made you feel slightly uncomfortable was that he could clearly see the mess of scars on your back.

That wasn’t where his focus landed, though, as he instructed you to lift your right arm to give him better access to your blaster wound. There was a rather sizable mark of burned flesh grazing over your skin, many spots bleeding– albeit not terribly so– as the wound had torn in several places during your scuffle with Meck. There was also a large bruise blossoming over your stomach from where Gurn had punched you.

_Great._

The Mandalorian sprayed and cleaned the injury. You hissed once at initial contact, but otherwise didn’t make a sound and focused on the child at your feet. As you had tried to remind yourself before, you have had worse wounds. He ripped open the bacta patch and carefully pressed it against your side, smoothing down the sticky edges so it could keep the wound from becoming infected as it worked on healing it over the next few hours.

The Mandalorian stood then, and opened up a bin that held clothing. He plucked a folded white shirt from the pile and handed it to you. You stood and pulled the shirt over your head. It was way too long, so you tucked it into your pants and rolled the sleeves up a few inches on your arms. You inwardly laughed a little as a silly thought entered your mind. You imagined for the briefest moment that you looked like a pirate. A smile tugged at your lips. You made it a grateful one and tossed it the Mandalorian’s way.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’d say this makes us even now, right?”

Your intentions to finally part ways must have seemed obvious, for the Mandalorian nodded once, but placed a hand on your shoulder. While he didn’t force you to sit back down, he applied enough pressure on your shoulder that it was strongly suggested. You sighed and sat.

“Rest. You spent a great deal of energy back there, throwing those thugs around like that.”

The Mandalorian paused. Every time he did that you could basically feel him contemplating responses. Careful ones. Whether it was because he didn’t want to say too much or because he wanted to make sure what he said didn’t spook you, you couldn’t tell yet. But, eventually, he spoke.

You eyed him questioningly. “How would you know that?”

“For one thing, you were on the verge of unconsciousness moments ago, and it wasn’t from blood loss, or weak-mindedness, I’d wager.”

You weren’t sure if you should be flattered or concerned that he basically suggested you hadn’t fainted simply because of the ordeal you had just gone through, or because of what you had just done.

“For another… I’ve seen this before.”

He glanced down at the kid between you two.

You blinked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Several days ago, the kid did something similar. Lifted a mudhorn a few feet off the ground, stopping it mid-charge. He was unconscious for a couple days after that, having completely exhausted himself. For a moment, I thought he might have been injured.”

You stared wondrously down at the child. He was glancing between the two of you, as if he could tell you were speaking about him. You had never really understood your strange, psychic power. Until today, you didn’t even know you could do more than occasionally influence thoughts. But as the Mandalorian said, you had thrown those guys off of you, and held Thasar against that window, all with your mind.

Now you were coming to find out that there was someone else in the galaxy that could do these things too. You honestly had a hard enough time wrapping your head around it when it was just you. You laughed a little nervously just at the thought.

“Look at us. A couple of regular ol’ X-Men.”

“X-Men?” The Mandalorian questioned, tone implying that he was intrigued. That maybe you knew more about these abilities and could shed some light on them. You gave him a sympathetic smile and shook your head.

“Sorry, it’s a reference to a story. Completely fictional. I personally don’t know much about this power. I had always been able to do somewhat strange things, but what you saw today is completely new to me too. I don’t even know if I’d be able to repeat it.”

You could feel his uneasiness at your words, disappointed that you couldn’t give him more insight on what his little green companion could do, on what he was capable of. But he nodded resolutely all the same, and proceeded to change the subject.

“What do you plan to do now?”

You shrugged.

“Find a new place to hole up, and then find work, I guess. At least until I can find or afford a way back to Earth. I know a lot about ship maintenance and electrician work. Thasar had me learn a few things so I could work on the ships he commissioned out to racers. One of his many business ventures. I’m sure I can find some-”

“Wait,” the Mandalorian interrupted, having gone still midway through your babbling. “Earth? That man, Thasar you called him? He had called you an Earthling, but I thought I was mishearing. You are an Earthling then?”

You froze. _Shit_ , you really shouldn’t have confirmed that. Earthlings were exceptionally rare outside of- well, outside of Earth. Therefore, they were really expensive bargaining chips to certain kinds of buyers. By revealing that, you had probably given the Mandalorian– this stranger– an easy payday…

Why were you still so distrusting of a man that had shown you nothing but kindness and consideration? He rescued this kid from the Guild. He rescued you from being completely recaptured by Thasar. He medically treated you and spoke to you not as a slave or someone to look down on, but as a real, equal person. So why did you stiffen at every possibility of betrayal?

Because, once upon a time, you had thought Zekir was showing you kindness and consideration too. He had taught you things you could use to survive escaping Thasar, and then helped you escape in a more real way than you had ever managed alone. You had trusted Zekir was doing all these things without any ulterior motives.

But you had been wrong.

So, as the Mandalorian digested the confirmation that you were an Earthling, you watched him warily, ready to bolt at any sign that he might consider cashing in on his sudden good fortune.

“He didn’t find you like he said, did he? He bought you.”

Your heart stammered and you stared at him incredulously.

“I-I thought you had just showed up at the end of all that. Exactly how much did you hear?”

He hesitated again, then said, “Everything, I suppose. I took out two guards and snuck into the workshop right after the four of you entered it. This puts a lot of it into context now.”

He waited for you to explain, to fill in the blanks. You didn’t like that a stranger already knew all these things about you. Things you had never really planned to share with anyone. And you realized as you held his hidden gaze that you didn’t _have_ to explain anything. He wasn’t waiting in an expectant way. You could have told him to fuck off and you honestly thought he would without a second thought.

But he did already know about your strange abilities, and he also knew you were from Earth, two of your most damning secrets. What was the harm in concluding something he’d probably find out on his own anyway if he cared to look hard enough?

“Yes. I was sold into the black market when I was sixteen. There’s a whole galactic underground there without the people of Earth even realizing it. Only really ballsy human traffickers work in that underground, because they know how hard it is to traffic on an intergalactic scale. It’s just easier to traffic to other humans on Earth.”

You shook your head, still disbelieving that humans could do that to other humans. Steal them from their families and sell them off like prized chattel.

“Anyway, I wound up there and Thasar put up the highest bid. He knew it would be a good business investment. If he could show me off to future business partners, show that he was capable of getting his hands on something as exotic as an Earthling, then they’d wonder what else he could get his hands on for their benefit.”

You left your explanation at that. You didn’t need to go into exact detail about how he had used you to entice prospective business partners and investors, and the Mandalorian seemed to accept that. He was quiet for a moment. A long moment. It was so long that you had started the moment feeling a small weight lift off your chest from sharing your story, but by the end felt a boulder plunge down into your gut that you had shared way too much.

But then he spoke.

“You’re right about the kid.”

That was so far beyond what you _thought_ he would say that you blinked at him, disoriented, sure you had imagined it.

“What?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve run with a crew. In all that time, I only had to look out for myself.” He glanced down at the kid again. “But now it’s not just me, and you’re right, I can’t keep leaving him alone on the ship. However, I also can’t take him on any jobs I manage to find. That would be even more dangerous.”

This was such an abrupt change of subject, but you found yourself nodding anyways, agreeing with him. At the very least, you were relieved that he actually knew not to leave the child on the ship alone, and hoped he was thinking of a way to avoid doing so in the future.

He met your eyes again.

“That said, don’t bother trying to find a place to lay low and look for work. You can stay here, and watch over the kid.”

Your brows furrowed as you mulled over his words, still confused. You still weren’t sure how this conversation had gone from you spilling your guts about your enslavement, to him discussing the kid’s safety. Now he was offering you a place on his ship as long as you watched over the child? Why? Did he pity you and your situation? Was he offering because he didn’t think you could make it out there on your own, or find your own work? You started to feel small licks of anger and stood.

“Look, I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need you to do me any favors. I don’t exactly like owing people things-“

“I’m not asking to help you. I’m asking _you_ to help _me_. It would be employment. I’d be paying you.” Your eyes narrowed, still skeptical.

“Can you _afford_ to pay me? You obviously can’t take jobs from the Guild if they’re looking for you, and I imagine it must be harder to find hunting jobs that aren’t already being run through the Guild.”

“It’s actually not. There are plenty of jobs that don’t meet the Guild’s code. So I can find work easily enough. You’d get a cut for watching the kid whenever I’m out on jobs. Lodging and food would be deducted from that cut. If you ask me, that’s a better deal than the majority of what you’ll find out there on your own. You’ll just wind up selling yourself back into slavery.”

You definitely didn’t want that. You thought about it. If you declined the offer, you’d be right back where you started four days ago. Ship busted, barely any money, wondering if it was better to sell yourself into someone’s service or stowaway on a ship. And then what? Planet hop until you found a decent job, _if_ you could find one? You weren’t a hunter like the Mandalorian. Jobs would be much harder to find.

And if you _did_ find one, would you be able to save up enough to pay someone– or even meet someone– stupid enough to take the nearly impossible trek to Earth? At least by traveling with the Mandalorian you could see new places, and meet all sorts of new creatures. Perhaps you could learn if there were more Earthlings out there like you, sold in the underground market on Earth.

The Mandalorian waited patiently while you considered it. You realized now that he wasn’t offering because he thought you couldn’t cut it out there on your own. Just that you weren’t going to find a better job without someone screwing you over. Finally, you sighed. He was right. This was probably one of the best– if not the best– job offers you were going to get.

“I can fly,” you wound up saying after you made your decision. “I was able to fly myself here, and a Razor Crest isn’t much different from some of the classic ships Thasar had in his collection. I can also do some minor maintenance work. Hire me for those reasons, and I’ll watch the kid whenever you take on a job.”

He studied you for a beat, then gave a curt nod and held out his hand.

“Deal.”

You shook his hand, as good a seal to an employment contract as any. Before he let go, he tilted his head slightly and said, “You said you flew yourself here?”

“Yes.”

“And that man, Thasar, he flew here as well?”

You felt a small, knowing smile sneak onto your lips, sure you knew where his line of questioning was going.

“He did. Rhet and the others must have too.”

“How likely is it that the remaining guards have fled on those ships already?”

“Minimal, I’d say. Thasar wouldn’t have come with a large collection of guards. I doubt there are more than one or two, waiting for his return.”

“Good. We might as well gather any belongings you left on your ship… and whatever you _might_ have left on the others.”

Your smile had morphed into a full-blown, mischievous grin.

“Yes. Might as well.”

—

The Mandalorian stood watch beside the Razor Crest while you stripped the ships. Much to your convenience, Rhet had landed next your ship, as had Thasar, all three of them abandoned. You suspected that, if any guards remained, they had probably gone off looking for Thasar and the others, wondering what was taking so long. 

You had started with the exterior of each ship, but most of the parts you could really make use of were within the engine crawl spaces inside. You made do with what you could find, though, throwing things in a bin the Mandalorian had emptied for you. The child followed at your heels, cooing and squealing while curiously watching your every move. Each time you threw something in the bin, he’d try to peek over the edge and see what it was. He’d quickly realize that he couldn’t see into the box and return to your side.

You looked down at him several times before finally asking the Mandalorian, “Does he have a name?”

He shrugged. “I’d assume so. I doubt he’d go fifty years without a name. I just don’t know what it is.”

“Fifty!” you exclaimed, mouth falling open. You knew that various species throughout the galaxy aged differently than humans did, but the child was twice your age and looked no more than a two-year-old Earthling. Your eyes landed on the child.

“Okay then, if I was a fifty-year-old alien baby with psychic powers, what would my name be?” You couldn’t get past your own internal laughing at how absurd that question sounded to properly think of anything good.

“I’ve got nothing,” you laughed. “I guess kid or child will have to do for now.” You turned your attention to the Mandalorian. “What about you?”

He tilted his head. You were quickly learning his different movements, gestures, and pauses. All you’ve ever done is read people, and Zekir had only strengthened that skill in you by telling you what actions to take whenever you noticed certain tells. This head tilt only meant that the Mandalorian didn’t understand your question, though.

“What do I call you?”

A very slight, but still visible stiffness crept into his shoulders. He tried to hide it by straightening somewhat and shaking his head. 

“Call me whatever you want.”

You appraised him a little, unsure of his tone. You almost felt like teasing him, asking if he too didn’t have a name. But you could tell by that stiffness that he did, just didn’t give it out so freely. It seemed like you weren’t the only one hesitant to trust others. With that in mind, knowing you’d want him to allow you your privacy, you would show him respect and allow him his. Still, you couldn’t help a playful smile twitching at your lips. 

“And if I want to call you Tinhead, you’d be cool with that?”

A heavy, modulated sigh hissed through his helmet and he turned away. You laughed.

“Alright, alright. Mando then, perhaps? I’m loathe to follow anything Rhet has ever said or done, but he called you that before. I can’t think of anything better, aside from your real name. But, for now, I’ll make do with what I have.”

He vaguely gestured, assenting your decision, then grabbed another bin he had emptied for your raid and hauled it over. 

“Let’s get what we need from inside and get out of here before any of your friends show up.”

You did as you were told, climbing into the ship you had stolen from Thasar first, as Mando and the child followed you. You grabbed anything you thought would be useful for traversing space and for hunkering down on backwater planets for long periods of time. Blankets and other bedding– including a foldable cot– clothing, rations, and even an emergency medical kit. You did a sweep of the engine crawl space and snatched up commonly used parts. 

You did the same with Rhet’s ship, grabbing items that seemed useless to you personally, but you thought you could bargain for a good price on them in a market somewhere. Most of it was Rhet, Gurn, and Meck’s clothing, but you spotted a few personal items as well. You even found a small satchel that you guessed had been Meck’s. It looked like the perfect size for the child to sit in comfortably, and it reminded you of those baby slings you sometimes saw mothers wear back on Earth. The contraption had kept their babies strapped to their chest and allowed them free movement of their hands. You snatched it up without a second thought.

The owners really wouldn’t be missing their things anyway. 

You saved Thasar’s ship for last. Something squeezed deep inside your gut at the idea of boarding it, remembering all the times you had been on this ship before. Mando waited patiently and you reminded yourself that it was just a ship. Thasar was dead. You killed him. You could never be hurt on this ship ever again. 

You were glad you managed to climb aboard, because the two of you found several more items that you could pawn off, including parts the Razor Crest wouldn’t be compatible with, but were unique to the ship they belonged to. Meaning they would fetch a good price. You searched Thasar’s quarters and found some nice clothes. You bunched them up and tossed them back to Mando, who threw them in the bins. You checked a small desk beside his bed and let out a victorious shout. 

You spun, and as you did, you tossed Mando a large money purse, bulging with credits. He caught it, but held it as if someone had just dropped a hamster in his hand and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. 

“Think of it as if you had just turned me in and are collecting the bounty reward. Though, I doubt that comes even close to the actual number Thasar put on my head.”

“I’d rather not.”

That was a thing, right? You had gotten your first job when you were sixteen, right before you had been sold to Thasar. You had spent the first week of training screwing up absolutely everything, and you remembered your boss muttering something about you barely being worth how much it cost to hire you. 

You huffed and shrugged. “Then consider it coverage for- uh, hiring fees, or something.”

You couldn’t see Mando’s face, but you could feel that he was slightly torn by this. He knew he needed that money. For fuel, for food, for anything the child needed. But you could tell he also thought that this money belonged to you. Your problem, though, was that you didn’t want Thasar’s money. You wanted to come by it on your own. So you gave him a reassuring smile.

“I don’t need it. I have a job now, remember? Start a communal fund if it really bothers you. We can add whatever we get for all this stuff we plan to pawn to it as well.”

That idea seemed to put him at ease, and he pocketed the purse.

“We about done here?” You did a quick sweep with your eyes and then nodded, turning towards the ship’s exit. 

“You didn’t really grab anything that belonged to you. You don’t have any possessions?”

You patted your pockets to reassure yourself that the only possession you ever cared to keep was still there, tucked away, as it had been not only for the last ten years you had been with Thasar, but the ten years even before that. You had never wanted to keep anything else. Although, you did mourn the kind of money you could have gotten for all the trinkets Thasar had gifted you over the years, as they remained untouched back at his estate. 

Not really wanting to explain to Mando that you had nothing to your name, you shook your head and said, “I was in such a hurry to escape, I didn’t really grab anything sentimental other than what I already had on me.”

With that, you and Mando grabbed the two bins you had filled and climbed off the ship. The child cooed happily as he rode atop the treasures in Mando’s far heavier bin. 

You felt a lightness come over you as you made your way towards the Crest, leaving Thasar’s stripped ships behind without a second glance. Despite knowing that Zekir was still out there somewhere, but aware that you were no longer following the map he had drawn out for you, it almost felt like you were walking towards a new life, leaving the other behind, no looking back. You couldn’t help but genuinely smile at that. The first _real and true_ smile you’d let grace your face in what had felt like eons. 

“What about you, then?” Mando asked quietly. 

“Hmm?” You glanced up at him questioningly as you reached his ship. 

“What do I call you?”

Your smile grew. “I’m Y/N.”

That’s right. You were Y/N… and now, you were free.


	5. Coping

To your surprise, living on a ship with a Mandalorian and an unknown alien baby wasn’t very difficult. After leaving that planet and the remnants of your now previous life behind, you and Mando spent the next five days scouring the galaxy for a perfectly nondescript, backwater planet. The plan was to lay low for a while. You had warned Mando that some of Thasar’s men might still come after you, and he merely shrugged and said, “Join the club.” The Guild was hounding his steps too, so finding a safe place was a priority for the child’s safety.

That didn’t keep you from making a stop during your search. On the second of those five days, Mando landed on a planet he visited often when he needed supplies. He told you that it housed a decent market, with merchants that weren’t out to screw you over. So the three of you went into town with the goods you had looted and set to work on selling them. It took a few different shops, and you watched with fascination as Mando haggled in different languages for almost each merchant you visited. 

He was able to pawn off everything. You added the newly acquired credits to the communal funds he insisted you hang on to. He seemed to still believe that that money belonged to you, and if you were to take off with it someday, it wasn’t like you were stealing from him. You had no intention of fleeing with it, though. Or fleeing at all for that matter. 

There were plenty of benefits to partnering up with the Mandalorian aside from having a job and a roof over your head. He was a weathered warrior with years and years of experience in many areas, as well as a knowledge of the galaxy that you were sorely lacking. You were constantly peppering the man with questions, which you were sure annoyed the hell out of him, but he never seemed to show it aside from the occasional heavy sigh.

He indulged you, though, realizing that a dam around you had broken, and your constant hunger for knowledge and companionable interaction was the caged river breaking free. 

So he always gave you an answer. At first, you had asked necessary questions. One of the most important being how he had come by the child, and why he had risked his neck to rescue a bounty. Turns out, he had been the bounty hunter assigned with bringing the kid in. He even completed the job. However, something had told him that he needed to go back. He couldn’t leave a child in the hands of someone willing to put money on its head, not caring if it was captured alive or dead.

After that, your questions were about anything and everything that popped into your head. While hunting down some supplies after ridding yourself of Thasar’s junk, you asked after different species you had never seen before, cultural aspects you noticed that were different from your own, interesting or dubious looking foods, and intriguing articles of clothing. When you were back in the ship, travelling in and out of hyperspace in search for a new residence, you asked about different planets and moons, far off star systems, and the mechanics and controls on the dash of the Razor Crest. Your curiosity was never-ending.

You were learning that, while Mando wasn’t one of many words, he spoke quite regularly when he had something to say. You could often tell when he was discussing a subject he had more knowledge about. The tone of his modulated voice would change just slightly, become a little more animated when he was more confident in his answers. That was normally when you asked him about his collection of weapons, and how each piece of his armor worked. 

If he didn’t have much to say, however, and you were busy trying to think of more questions to bombard him with, the two of you would usually pass the time in a rather comfortable silence. Until Mando started getting a little more comfortable conversing with another living being on a regular basis; then _he_ was the one asking questions. 

He asked you things like how you learned to fight and shoot a blaster, how you had come by all this electrical and mechanical knowledge, and how you learned to fly. He asked what Earth was like, and what Earth’s foods, clothing, and customs were like compared to what you’ve seen in the last few days. You were quite happy to answer anything about Earth. While the situations you had been in back then didn’t bring you many happy memories, comparing Earth to where you’ve been so far was a fun discussion, and you found that you missed your home planet dearly. 

As for the things you had learned, you kept your explanations brief, as all they did was remind you of Thasar and Zekir. For the mechanical experience and the flying, Thasar didn’t trust mechanics around his ships, as most of them were involved in racing and could be tampered with to ensure gambling outcomes. So he had you apprentice under one, and trusted you not to sabotage anything in fear of punishment if you did.

For the fighting, it all started when Zekir had laughed at you after one of your lamest escape attempts. You wound up getting mugged in the city outside Thasar’s estate, and went looking for Rhet on your own to take you back. After berating you for your idiocy, Zekir started showing you some self-defense, claiming that, if you were going to go out and get yourself into trouble, you might as well be able to protect yourself. 

You left out the mess about your relationship with Zekir, how it had escalated over months and months, and soon, he wanted to actually help you escape successfully. You left out the part where you thought he was doing this because he cared about you, maybe even loved you. You left out the part when you realized that he didn’t.

So this was how you passed five days in space, save for the supplies stop. Mando seemed to express incredible patience with you, and you were so grateful for that. While you still weren’t sure if you could trust him entirely yet, you couldn’t help but try to get to know your shipmate little by little. Mando was the first person in twenty years that actually seemed to notice you for who you were– not _what_ you were– and treated you like a person, an equal. For all those years, you had felt like a slave, nothing more than a tool… sometimes like nothing at all. But pestering Mando with your questions, with him clearly drawing on that patience to humor you, you were starting to feel yourself again. 

Mando had to use that patience with the child as well. Much like you, he was a very curious little thing. While he could sit there and simply observe his surroundings, or listen to you and Mando talk for hours, sometimes he found things that he just _had_ to mess with. 

At the current moment, it was all the shiny, flashing lights on the Crest’s dash. You sat in one of the co-pilot’s seats, watching with a slight smile as the child sat on the dash beside Mando, flipping a switch for the second time after Mando had switched it off. 

“Stop touching things,” Mando stated, with only a very slight frustration touching his tone. The child looked right at him… then slowly and deliberately leaned over and flipped a different switch. You stifled a giggle as the ship started to shake, but all Mando did was reach over and undo what the child had done, then haul him away from the controls. 

He settled the child on his knee instead, and turned towards his radar as something blipped across it. You were struggling not to grin behind Mando’s back. For such an elite warrior, the man was absolutely soft on that child. 

As Mando examined his radar, he started mumbling about a planet called Sorgan. It must have checked off enough on both of your lists for him to deem it safe enough. He glanced back at you and said, “Found something promising.”

“Yeah?” you said, standing up and leaning in to read the radar over his shoulder. 

“Real backwater skug hole. Which means it’s perfect for us.” He glanced down at the child on his knee. “You ready to lay low and stretch your legs for a couple of months, you little womp rat?”

Your smile returned upon seeing this interaction.

“Nobody’s going to find us here.” Mando concluded. When you hummed in agreement, he set the navigation towards your new destination. 

It didn’t take long to reach Sorgan, and before you knew it, you were marveling at the lush expanse of green as you entered its atmosphere. It was like you were in one of the fantasy movies you had watched back on Earth as a child. Breathtaking, beautiful, and welcoming. 

Mando landed in a large clearing of trees. He pried the child’s hands off the control stick as he reached for his favorite toy– the silver knob sitting atop the shifter– and carefully passed him towards you. You took the child in your arms and reached for the satchel you started to carry him around in whenever you left the ship. Well, the one time you had left the ship. When Mando noticed that you were readying the child and yourself to follow him, he shook his head. 

“I’m gonna go out there and I’m gonna look around. It shouldn’t take too long. You two stay here.”

“What?” you blanched, rounding on him. “We came with you for the supply run. Why-”

“Because I knew that place,” he interrupted, already guessing your argument. “I don’t know this planet, so I need to scope it out first.”

Your shoulders sagged as you tried to think of something to counter his words. As much as you didn’t mind spending so much time on the Razor Crest thanks to your company, you had been looking forward to getting the hell out of there and exploring new terrain. He said it wasn’t going to take him long, but what if that wasn’t true? You agreed to watch over the child for him, but not at the expense of being excessively cooped up on the Crest if you didn’t have to be. You had spent enough time doing that as Thasar’s slave. 

“I’ll find us some lodging, then I’ll come back for you.” 

And just like that, he turned away and stepped down the ladder that lead into the hull of the ship. You glanced down at the child as he was getting comfortable in his satchel. When he met your eyes, you said, “Are you gonna listen to him?”

He gurgled loudly, the sound tapering off in a childish giggle. You gave him a determined smile. 

“Didn’t think so.”

You scurried down the ladder as you heard Mando open the side ramp. You stepped up to his side as it touched down and he looked over at you, then at the child resting against your hip, tucked into his carrier. 

He sighed, but you met his disapproving stare through his visor with a stubborn look of your own. You were done being caged and left behind, and you weren’t about to let Mando set that expectation of you in the future. 

“Oh, what the hell? Come on,” he muttered, resigned. 

Victory twitched at the corners of your lips and you followed after him. 

—

After a short trek, the three of you came across a small town. Mando made a straight beeline for the tavern, the best hub for free flowing information. He made his way to a table sitting opposite of the entrance. You took everything in as you followed, observing and listening, just like you had done sitting in that bar five days ago.

The two of you sat, and you pulled the child out of his satchel to sit him between you. A waitress approached with a warm greeting, and Mando requested a single porringer of bone broth for the child. Before she left, he nodded towards a woman you had spotted closer to the entrance. She was tall and muscular. Beautiful too, with short black hair, and sharp eyes.

“That one over there. When did she arrive?”

The waitress blathered a little, unsure how long the woman in question had been in Sorgan or what her business was. Mando tipped her a credit, perhaps hoping that would loosen her tongue. Instead she graciously thanked him for his generosity and said she’d hurry on their order.

As she moved away, the two of you noticed that the woman had disappeared.

“Stay here,” Mando said, immediately jumping up and following after the mysterious woman. You sat there, torn. You didn’t have any reason to believe that he might get his ass kicked… but that woman had looked really hardcore. What if he did and got dragged off to the Guild without any backup? 

You scooped up the child and made for the exit. You were momentarily stopped by the waitress as she leaned over the counter to hand you a cup of bone broth. You thanked her, promising to bring the porringer right back, handed it to the child, and then followed after the Mandalorian. 

Turns out, he was totally getting his ass kicked. 

You rounded the tented building only to stumble upon Mando and the woman in the middle of a complete brawl. At that moment, you saw the woman whale on him hard enough to knock him on his face. He was recovering, though, and if you thought there was anything you could do without getting in his way, you would help him. Really though, you just wound up standing on the sidelines, watching in awe as the two warriors grappled with each other for the upper hand. You were especially captivated by the incredible skill and strength of the woman. 

Even the child seemed unperturbed, watching quietly while he sipped his soup.

Mando eventually hooked the woman’s leg and she toppled. There was some more struggling before the woman was able to flip him over her head. Then they rolled before finally coming to a stop, blasters pointed at one another.

The child chose that moment to make an exceptionally loud slurping sound and the two of them glanced over, finally noticing your presence. You looked from the woman to Mando before saying, “Can we keep her?”

He huffed. You even thought it might have sounded like a breathy chuckle. But then he caught his breath and craned his neck to look over at the woman.

“You want some soup?”

—

When the four of you were back at your table inside the tavern, the woman introduced herself as Cara Dune and briefly explained her story. She was an ex-shock trooper that fought against the Galactic Empire. That was about all you could register, though, as everything else went over your head. In your isolation, you hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to learn about the politics of the galaxy. Apparently, there had been an Empire that had all but crumbled in the last few years? You couldn’t keep up, but it seemed like Mando did just fine, so you made a note to yourself to ask him about it later.

So while you were unable to comprehend most of her story, you sort of just sat there openly admiring her. In her fight with Mando she had displayed skills that even Zekir could never dream of having. Of course, so did the Mandalorian, but you had expected that from him. With Cara, you saw a reflection of the kind of strength and confidence you wanted to have.

As Cara seemed to wrap up her tale, she glanced around the table and you blushed, sure she caught you openly gawking at her. You didn’t lower your eyes, however. You met her gaze and she smiled.

“Well, this has been a real treat.” She turned back to Mando. “But unless you wanna go another round, one of us is gonna have to move on, and I was here first.”

She stood, as if those were her parting words, and you tried to stifle your disappointment as she walked away.

“Well, looks like this planet’s taken,” Mando sighed.

—

Night fell soon after that, and you found yourself back at the Razor Crest. You were sitting at the bottom of the ramp, torn between watching the child play in the grass and watching Mando work on the ship. You weren’t sure what kind of repairs he was making, and you had asked him a couple times if you could help, but he assured you he could handle it. You had a suspicion that he was stalling a little before the three of you had to spend gods knew how long back on the ship in search for the next safe haven.

You decided to take advantage of your last bit of time in the fresh air and open space. You were thinking you could teach the child how to play tag or something, when a small repulsorcraft vehicle approached, and two men jumped off of it. You coaxed the child towards you and scooped him up, standing on the ramp, preparing to flee in case the newcomers showed any sign of a threat.

They only seemed to have eyes for the Mandalorian, though.

“Excuse me,” one of them called. “Excuse me, sir!”

Mando addressed them in a way that sort of surprised you, like he was extremely busy, and they had gotten in his way. He didn’t even look at them as they asked for his help against raiders, thinking he was some kind of mercenary.

He turned them down.

You wondered about that. In the last few days, you hadn’t exactly known him to be so callous and cold. Hell, he had spoken to Cara with more warmth only minutes after they had been fighting. Had he been this wary of you when the two of you first crossed paths? Had he been burned on job requests like this before? Did he feel like he was encroaching on Cara’s sanctuary? Or was he thinking about the kid, his priority to find him someplace safe before he took on anymore work?

He made it sound like they didn’t have enough money. But you knew that the two of you currently had plenty of funds. You weren’t against Mando’s actions. Even if you yourself were capable of helping these people, you found it difficult to trust a bunch of strangers enough to follow them into the woods. It just seemed strange that, after the kindness you had seen in Mando’s decisions to help you and the child, he was claiming he wouldn’t help these people because they couldn’t afford his services.

You tilted your head at him as the two men dejectedly walked away, hoping he might explain his real reasons for turning them down. However, something the men had mumbled caught his attention, and he turned back to them.

“Where do you live?”

“On a farm. Weren’t you listening? We’re farmers.” One man said, a slight snap in his tone.

“In the middle of nowhere?” Mando urged.

“Yes.”

“You have lodging?” They both visibly straightened, hopeful, but still hesitant. 

“Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Good. Come up and help.”

Just like that, Mando took the job. And you suppose you had your answer then, too. His priorities remained with the kid, thinking he might have just found him a safe place to stay.

As they loaded Mando’s supplies onto the repulsorcraft, he said he needed one more thing and asked for the credits. Then he turned to you.

“Help them finish loading up, then lock up the Crest. I’ll be right back.”

He trotted off before you could argue that he was leaving you _alone_ with _strangers_. Indignantly, you thought he might have done that on purpose. Because now you were torn between running after him, and keeping an eye on the ship. You reasoned that, if he thought it was okay for you to be alone with these farmers, then it should have made you feel better about it. But this was also the guy who had thought it was a good idea to leave the child alone on the ship on multiple occasions, so you remained anxious.

You grumbled and cursed him under your breath.

He made it up to you, though. You leaned against the vehicle after locking up the Razor Crest, keeping one eye on the child and the other on the two men. They were speaking to each other animatedly, excited that they were finally going to rid their settlement of the raiding problem. You caught movement out of the corner of your eye and saw Mando emerge from the trees, closely followed by Cara.

You instantly perked up at the sight of her.

Soon enough, the group set out on the slow moving repulsorcraft. You had chosen to sit next to Cara. In the hours since you had last seen her, you had thought of so many things you wanted to ask her, and now was your chance. You waited patiently for Mando to explain the job in full to her, putting an emphasis on the fact that they had lodgings in the middle of nowhere. As soon as he finished, leaning back against the shuttle to rest, you pounced.

Again, you were sure you were being very annoying, but you couldn’t help it. Cara didn’t dissuade you either, so you took that as encouragement to continue. You asked her about what a shock trooper did, and about the places she had visited. You tried your best not to pry into anything that she might find difficult to discuss. You especially enjoyed hearing about how she had learned to fight, asking her if– providing you could find the time around this job– she could show you a few things.

Eventually, Mando lightly kicked your leg from across the vehicle, getting your attention.

“Rest,” he ordered. “It’s a long journey.”

—

You sighed and apologized to Cara. She told you not to worry, and soon, the entire party fell silent. You stared up into the stars, willing yourself to sleep, but you couldn’t turn your mind off long enough to even doze. The hours passed on, and you found yourself wishing you could see Mando’s face, to know if he was asleep, or if it really _was_ his gaze you could feel on you as the repulsorcraft rumbled on into the night.

The six of you reached the farm by mid-morning. The vehicle came to a stop, and you eagerly tucked the child into your arms before hopping off as a small crowd of farmers came to greet their guests. You had only taken a few steps before you were surrounded by children, all clamoring to get a look at the creature you held to your chest. He cooed excitedly, reaching back for the many hands that stretched up towards him.

Mando watched after you for a moment before preparing to disembark the vehicle. Cara noticed and said, “She’s a bit rough around the edges, but sweet. And chatty.”

“That was-“ Mando paused, looking for the right words. “-kind of you. Indulging her questioning like that on the way here.” Cara shrugged.

“I know a coping mechanism when I see one.” Cara’s dark eyes drifted towards you for a brief second before coming back to the Mandalorian. “What’s her story?” He shook his head.

“Not mine to share.” 

She assented to his point, but continued anyway.

“Whatever it is, she thinks she can just bounce back from it. But something tells me you and I both know that’s not how trauma works.” Mando sighed and gave a single nod. Cara tossed him a slightly sympathetic look.

“Then you are doing her a kindness as well, allowing her to distract herself like that. At least until she’s ready to deal with it.”

Mando wasn’t so sure. He’d thought so at first, when he initially realized that your constant curiosity was your way of keeping your thoughts occupied. He was sure you did have a natural thirst to learn anything and everything you could. That was to be expected after living in such an isolated way for so long. But it was also a distraction you seemed to take full advantage of. Just like he did before all this madness with the kid had started.

He had taken job after job, leaving no room to rest– to think– in between. At first, it was to keep from thinking about his parents. Then it was to keep from thinking about the things he had done during a younger, more ambitious period of his life. But now things were different. He threw his entire focus into keeping the child safe, but that hadn’t allowed for his normally busy schedule of bounty hunting. In fact, it was a lot of empty space and time to do nothing _but_ think. 

He was lost.

Then, he found you. He still wasn’t sure what had possessed him to offer you a place on his ship. After a couple days, he didn’t really care either way, as he welcomed your mode of distraction as one of his own.

But then you started having nightmares.

That first night, when he could tell you were dead on your feet, he offered you the cot in the hidden compartment with the sliding door. You had declined, insisting that he needed more privacy than you did, concerned that sleeping with his helmet on probably wasn’t very comfortable. With the door, you figured he could have the seclusion he needed to take it off long enough to sleep. You would take the folding cot instead, and set it up against his wall of supplies.

When he explained that the discomfort you imagined wasn’t really a problem for him, you also hesitantly admitted you wouldn’t be comfortable in that small of a space, muttering something about Thasar often throwing you into a crawl space each time you had attempted an escape for days on end. He didn’t press the topic any further.

The point of this was that you probably didn’t think he could hear anything beyond that door. But he could, and he did hear when you quietly startled awake on the second night, and every night– save for this previous one, as he knew very well you hadn’t slept at all– since. You would stifle your heavy breathing until it calmed, probably watching the sliding door or listening to be sure you hadn’t woken him, then lulled the child back to sleep before doing so yourself.

That was when he started wondering if he was enabling you to bottle up things that shouldn’t be bottled. He knew well enough where that path lead, remembering the decisions he had made under that influence that often haunted his own dreams. He started wondering if he should push you to confront the thoughts that were giving you nightmares.

But he knew you weren’t ready for that yet. He could tell you were still wary of him, trusting him enough to agree to be his shipmate and make idle chatter with him, but not enough to keep from sleeping with a knife– one clearly snatched from his collection– under your pillow. You weren’t going to trust him with all the minute details of your past, and he wasn’t sure he was the person you should be tackling those demons with anyways. Forget the fact he wasn’t even sure he _wanted_ to be that person.

So, all he could do was allow you your distractions, and take advantage of them himself. As he watched you again, laughing as the children around you fought for the kid’s attention, he found that he didn’t feel good about that decision. But he wasn’t sure, for the time being at least, what else he could do.


	6. Foundling

Later that afternoon, Cara and Mando went off to do some recon on the raiders. The child had become wildly popular among the children of the settlement, so he kept busy as well. That left you to entertain yourself.

You took to following after Omera, one of the women that prepared the barn for you and Mando to lodge in. She was stunning, with long brown hair, and warm features. Upon meeting her, though, you could also tell there was an edge to her, buried deep, something you found kinship with. She was kind and thoughtful towards Mando as well, which you appreciated. All that said, you took to her nearly as quickly as you did to Cara.

As Omera survived your endless curiosity, you learned that she performed a variety of jobs on the farm. Currently, she was sitting at the edge of one of the many ponds, scooping krill out of the water that would later be brewed into spotchka. She smiled softly at you and offered you a small basket, asking if you would like to try.

It was trickier than it looked. The krill grouped together, and you had to bring the basket up from underneath them slowly and steadily, or else risk spooking them and causing them to scatter. After your fifth attempt with not a whole lot to show for your efforts, you laughed and informed Omera that you might not become a krill farmer anytime soon. 

After a couple more failed attempts, you noticed Mando and Cara emerge from the trees. You passed the basket back to Omera, excusing yourself, and trotted over to them. All the farmers noticed and started to make their way over as well, ready to hear what news their hired mercenaries had for them. As you met them at the door of the barn, you could tell that the news wasn’t good.

You tried to catch Mando’s gaze, but he shook his head at you. You stood next to him as the people finished gathering.

“Bad news,” Mando finally said. “You can’t live here anymore.”

Cara chastised him for his poor delivery while the farmers reacted with anger and disbelief. You stood by silently, listening while Cara explained how much more difficult the situation was now that they had discovered an Imperial walker was involved. Again, you had a hard time following along with anything regarding this Empire you knew nothing about. However, Cara explained that walkers had very big guns that could wipe out companies of soldiers within minutes, so you were inclined to agree with them that the farmers had to move on.

They weren’t having that, though. They absolutely refused to be driven out of their homes and their livelihood, and you admired their bravery for that. But what could Mando and Cara do alone against a band of raiders and such heavy machinery?

“You cannot fight that thing,” Cara said with a note of finality. The crowd fell silent, but you could see in their faces that they were resolute in staying. A few seconds passed before you felt Mando’s attention on you. You turned towards him, raising your eyebrows slightly in question. He only studied you for another moment before speaking.

“Unless we show them how.”

The settlement immediately erupted into agreement. 

Mando and Cara quickly set to work. Their first goal was to fortify the farm. They wanted the raiders and the walker to bottleneck into one key location, making it easy for the farmers to pick off the raiders, while Mando and Cara took on the walker. As some farmers worked on building barricades, Cara had others work on digging deeper into one of the ponds. Her plan was to get the walker to step into the pond, allowing the unknowingly deep pit to bring it down completely.

All that work took the rest of the day and well into the night. When it became too dark to see, Mando and Cara instructed the farmers to rest. The next day would be devoted to training in fighting and shooting, and then the two of them would head off and lure the raiders into the settlement once night fell.

As the farm settled for the night, you found yourself back in the barn, aching to collapse onto your portable cot after the long day of work. You had been more than eager to help the farmers, whether it was cutting down trees, forming the barricades, or digging in the pond. It kept you and your mind busy. Even still, you couldn’t help worrying about everything that was at stake in the decision to fight against such a dangerous machine, not to mention the raiders. There was a risk of so many people getting hurt. The farmers, Cara, Mando, the child…

Other things were plaguing your thoughts as well. Things that the cracks in your waking mind were allowing to leak through, as you hadn’t slept the night before, avoiding the nightmares you had been having the last few days. With everyone so busy and focused, pestering others to keep your brain busy wasn’t an option. So, you threw yourself into work, knowing wholeheartedly you’d be doing the same the next day, training with both Cara and Mando.

Until then, you hoped your over-exhausted state would bring you dreamless, carefree sleep.

Before you could call it a night, though, you had to get the child ready for bed. He had played his little heart out with the other children all day, keeping busy while the adults worked on fortifying the farm. You were thankful for that, as the child seemed happy in the company of other children, with no care that he had been hunted only a few days ago by just about every bounty hunter in the galaxy. You had a feeling that Mando appreciated it too, that the child got to be a real kid for a time. He stood on the other side of the barn, cleaning his rifle and quietly watching you place the now sleeping child in a cradle Omera had provided for him.

When you stood, Mando said, “That’s new.”

You peered over at him, wondering what he meant. He set aside the rifle, apparently done cleaning it, and stepped towards you, gesturing in your direction. You glanced down, brows furrowing, then spotted the red, jeweled pendant hanging between your breasts. You had tucked it into your shirt earlier, but it must have slipped out at some point while you were working.

“Oh right,” you said, gingerly taking it in your hand and lifting it up for him to see. “I don’t normally wear it. Well, I never wore it, actually. I didn’t want anyone snatching it, and I especially didn’t want Thasar to know about it, so I’ve kept it hidden. But, while you and Cara were out scouting, I found some string and asked Omera if I could have some.” You were babbling, as if trying to explain something he might find silly, but you couldn’t help it. It wasn’t exactly something you had shared with anyone before, having kept it hidden for so long. “I thought that, now that I’m- well, you know… I-I just thought I could wear it now.”

He carefully took the jewel between two gloved fingers. You tried to shake away the slight tingle you felt when his fingers brushed your hand, chalking it up as nerves at seeing him inspect something so precious to you.

“This is what you checked for in your pocket when we were stripping the ships.”

 _Ah, of course he noticed that_.

At the time, he had noticed that you hadn’t retrieved any personal possessions from Thasar’s ships. In response you had immediately patted your pockets, assuring yourself that you still had your pendant, the only possession you cared to keep.

“Yeah. My-” you hesitated, averting your gaze. But you resolutely steeled your nerve, swallowed thickly, and forced yourself to meet his visor. “My parents gave it to me.”

Mando slowly– softly– lowered the pendant, and you could feel his eyes grazing over your face, assessing.

“Do they know what happened to you?” You could hear the underlying question he was being careful not to ask. It was as if he was tentatively pushing at the brick wall you had so carefully constructed around yourself without wanting to spook you into retreating deeper behind it. You felt yourself smile sadly at that, inwardly watching as his nudge shifted a brick enough for it to tumble to the ground, coming to a rest at your feet.

“No. They died when I was six. If they hadn’t, I’d have led a much different life.”

Mando was slightly surprised to understand exactly what you meant. He tilted his head and said, lowly, “You’re a foundling.”

It was your turn to cock your head, eyebrows scrunching.

“Foundling?”

“It’s the Mandalorian Way to take in children that are found without guardians. They’re called foundlings.” He paused, seeming to debate whether he should say more. “I was one. My parents were killed, and the Mandalorians took care of me, raised me as one of their own.”

Another brick landed at your feet, but you weren’t sure if it was from your wall, or his. You nodded, glancing for a quick second at the sleeping child behind you, comprehending Mando’s motives a little better now. You also found that you were sadly and despairingly grateful that he knew what it was like, and that his reaction wasn’t one of pity, but of understanding. You lowered yourself to your cot, and waited to see if Mando would decide to end the conversation there, or take a seat too.

He pulled up one of the supply bins he had brought from the Crest and sat in front of you.

“So these children, like you, aren’t originally born into the Mandalorian culture, but can be adopted into it?”

“Something like that,” Mando nodded.

“I guess you’re right, then. On Earth, children like that are called lots of different things, depending on their situation. I was an orphan. And I think, like the Mandalorians, a relative could have taken me in and cared for me. But the only family my parents had left was my mother’s sister, and she wasn’t really fit to raise kids, so I was thrown into the foster system instead.”

“Considering where you wound up ten years later, I take it this foster system runs differently than how the foundlings are cared for?” He asked, no longer hesitating from asking more blunt questions.

“Umm, I mean we aren’t trained into elite Mandalorian warriors, so yeah, I’d say it’s a little bit different,” you couldn’t help but tease. Mando made that sound again, the one you had thought was a soft chuckle when you asked if you could keep Cara. You sobered, though, and sighed.

“I think the foster system is meant to be something great, but it’s broken. I should have only stayed with one family or in a group home while my aunt got her shit together. She didn’t want to change her particular lifestyle to raise a kid, though, so she dragged her feet for years. While she was doing that, I had to hop between seven different foster families.”

“Why so many?”

“Let’s just say that, not all people are fit to care for kids, like my aunt.”

“Then why be a part of this system?” You could understand the complete bewilderment in his tone. For years you had asked yourself the same thing.

“I don’t really know. Money, maybe. The state pays them for housing foster children, but I always understood that it didn’t seem like much. I remember most of the families I housed with complaining about that. Hell, my last foster father definitely thought he wasn’t making enough money to deal with me, so he sold me.”

“And nobody would have suspected that? A child from a government system disappears after going through six other ill-fit families, and he thought no one would notice?” 

You shook your head. “Even if someone did notice, no one would think to go offworld looking for me. If an investigation happened, it happened on Earth. But I doubt one did. I’m sure all he had to say was that I ran. That was kind of my thing. I ran away a lot.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Mando deadpanned, but you could hear the knowing lilt in his tone, like he was trying to be sarcastic and ease some of the tension produced by this conversation. He continued, though, voice lowering again.

“If a Mandalorian had found you, you would have been a foundling, and you would have been raised in a culture that cares for children like us knowing they are the future.”

Your heart stumbled a bit at his words. It didn’t do any good to play what-ifs. These terrible experiences in your life happened. It was already done. Nothing would come from wondering what your life might have been like if you had become a foundling, like him, instead of an orphan being pushed through a broken system.

However, what he said made you realize that you _had_ been found by a Mandalorian. You were no longer a child, and you wouldn’t have wanted him to treat you like one, but he had taken you in anyway. Not like he had with the kid, but as an equal, maybe even as a working partner. And for the first time since Mando had picked you up, you felt like you belonged here, with him and the kid. 

And maybe he thought so too.

You smiled warmly over at him, your chest swelling, cheeks heating. Mando softly cleared his throat before continuing.

“You also would have been taught how to fight better.”

The sound that came from you was a mix of a scoff and a laugh. Because, while you felt a little miffed by his jab, you were pretty sure he had just cracked a joke.

“My fighting skills are just fine, thank you!”

“Your fighting skills are… decent,” he admitted with a shrug. You narrowed your eyes at him, and fought like hell against the smile still trying to tug at your lips.

“This coming from the guy that got his ass kicked by Cara yesterday.”

“Yeah, she’s a better fighter than I am. But she and I are both better than you.”

“Rude,” you said, giving in to the giggles. He wasn’t wrong, though.

“I know you expressed interest in Cara teaching you,” he said slowly. You nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. Bring it up to her again after all this is over. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind showing you a few things.”

You excitedly agreed and he stood.

“As for tomorrow, though, you’ll train with my group first. You can show me if you’re a better marksman than you are a fighter.”

Your reaction was probably the most childish thing you had done since you were actually a child. You stuck your tongue out at him as he started turning away. When he noticed, he stopped, and though you couldn’t see his eyes, you could practically feel them rolling. You quickly sucked your tongue back in and twisted on your cot to pull your blankets back, acting like nothing had happened. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shake his head before heading over to his cot on the other side of the barn. 

He reached for the lantern beside his bed, but paused for a moment before turning it out. He turned his head to speak over his shoulder. 

“Sleep well, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you said, tucking into your blankets. Softly, you added, “You too, Mando.”

For the first time in days, you had an easier time falling asleep, even while you were smiling wide enough that your cheeks hurt. And to your relief, you didn’t dream. Despite everything that came before, and everything that was coming in the day ahead, you felt at ease, safe, and content.


	7. Partners

The following night came all too quickly, and Mando wound up stationing you a couple barricades behind Omera and a few other farmers that did well on their marksman training. Despite Mando’s teasing the night before, you had actually done rather well during his instructions earlier that day. You weren’t nearly as good as Omera– who surprised everyone, including Mando, with her incredible skill– and you’d argue with him that you were definitely a better fighter than a gunslinger. But, overall, you did well enough. So, the job he gave you was to pick off any stragglers that might make it past Omera and the others.

He seemed slightly suspicious when you didn’t argue. But he was the warrior, not you. He was the one who had spent his life in and out of fights and battles, most probably worse than what would be taking place soon. So you agreed, knowing that, back here, you could also keep an eye on the children.

They were holed up in one of the huts farthest away from where the fighting would take place any minute now. The child was with them, held against Winta’s chest as they all huddled together and waited for everything to be over. You couldn’t wait for it all to be over as well. As more and more minutes passed without any sign of Mando or Cara, your thoughts strayed to worries and concerns. What if things didn’t go as planned? What if someone got hurt? What if-

You kept forcing yourself to take calming breaths. 

_Breathe. Mando and Cara are ready for this. These people are ready for this. You are ready for this._

Just as you were thinking these things, the ground gave a shuddering jolt, and then another. An anxious murmur filtered through the cluster of farmers, anticipation building. Large footsteps continued to jar through the ground, growing louder, and soon, you saw Mando and Cara breaking the treeline, running for the barricades.

You released a quaking sigh of relief just at the sight of them. That relief was soon stifled by dread, however, as a giant machine emerged from the forest behind them. A giant machine with very large guns sitting on top of two very long legs.

And so the battle began.

The raiders came running from the woods, their battlecries slicing through the air. Blaster fire began in earnest, but the walker seemed to stop before the trap Cara and the others had prepared for it. You shook off the panic at that, reminding yourself that it wasn’t your job to focus on the walker. Cara and Mando could improvise and handle it. Your job was to concentrate on any raiders breaking past the others.

Very few did, making it easy for you to take them out. You were mostly left there watching the others fight like hell, determined to win back their farm, their homes. Honestly, it was amazing to witness. Two days ago, these farmers were helpless to these raids, losing their harvests every few weeks to these monstrous beings, living in fear. And now, while they might not be hardened warriors like Mando and Cara, they sure as hell fought like they were.

Eventually, the walker fell into the trap, and the raiders started to retreat. Just as you were about to sag against the barricade in relief, you heard screams coming from several feet behind you.

_The children._

You wheeled around to find a lone raider had somehow made it past you and the others. He was thrashing against the door of the hut the children were hiding in, trying to kick it down.

For a split second, your mind went blank, and your instincts kicked in. Before you even registered your own movements, you were raising your left hand, that force bursting from you and latching onto the lone raider. He struggled against your hold for that single second before you remembered how unreliable these powers were. You came back to yourself and ripped your hand back, lifting your blaster in the other hand instead. Two shots and he went down. 

You quickly ran over, shoved the raider aside, and knocked on the door, coaxing the kids to open it for you. It was Winta that finally did, and you reached for the child. You tucked him into your chest, and Winta hugged your waste, trembling. All the children were trembling, but safe.

“Y/N!”

You turned at the sound of Mando’s modulated voice and swiftly approaching footsteps. He bore down on you, helmet swinging between you, the kid, the children in the hut, and the dead raider hanging off the patio.

He was also dripping wet.

“You’re all wet,” you said, voicing your observation aloud. He waved it off by hooking a thumb back towards the celebrating farmers.

“Pond,” was his only explanation. “Is everyone alright?” You nodded, smiling grimly and turning the child in your arms so he could see his Mando, safe and sound.

“Everyone’s fine.”

—

You, Mando, and the child wound up staying with the settlement for a few weeks. After the battle, some repairs were needed on a few huts and ponds, the damage caused by the raiders and the walker. You were happy to help, and it seemed Mando was too, taking advantage of a way to keep the kid somewhere safe just a bit longer. Even after the repairs were made, though, there just didn’t seem to be any urgency to leave. 

The weeks passed by quickly that way, with you filling your days doing a variety of different things. You did as Mando suggested and asked Cara for fighting lessons again. She happily agreed, showing you new things every other day while Mando looked on. Sometimes he’d throw in his own knowledge, or if you were mock dueling with Cara, he’d pull you aside and give you pointers on how to spot your opponent’s weaknesses.

Cara was pleased and impressed by the skill you already had, and the progress you were making. Much like Mando, she was curious about where you originally learned to fight, so you briefly told her about Zekir. By then, you had already given her a little bit of your history as a slave, so she was intrigued by the head of security that had helped you escape.

“Oh? I wonder if there’s a story there, with you and this Zekir guy.” Her tone was light, and you knew she was teasing, but your shoulders still tensed, and you shook your head.

“Not anymore.”

“Why’s that?” she asked. You were slow to answer, considering your words, not wanting to dive too deeply into this subject.

“Because there’s a difference between someone helping you because it’s the right thing to do, and someone helping you expecting to get something out of it.”

Cara turned her gaze towards Mando at your words and they shared a look. Your heart tightened suddenly, so you decided to take advantage of Cara’s distracted state to see if you could pin her, as you hadn’t been able to do so yet.

It was no good. She quickly recovered and only grappled with you for several seconds before you were on your back, her boot sitting firmly on your stomach.

Other things that kept you busy were continuing to shadow Omera, and shooting lessons with Mando. With Omera, you were finally getting the hang of krill fishing, but more importantly, you learned many other things more useful to your future travels. She showed you how to patch clothes, cook meals that didn’t come out of a vacuum packed bag, some minor first aid– especially right after the battle– and several other more domestic things. There was something to be said about keeping yourself alive with your fists and a gun, but what was the point if you couldn’t manage the smaller things as well?

With Mando, you grew more confident in your ability to use a blaster. You still weren’t quite on par with Omera, who occasionally joined the two of you, but you felt comfortable knowing you could at least protect those you cared about.

After finishing one of your lessons, when you went to return his blaster to his collection of weapons, he waved you away from it.

“Keep that one. You seem to favor it, and it suits you. You can add it to the knife you snatched and start your own armory.”

Your cheeks flamed in embarrassment. How was he always so observant? Did he know that for the first few nights, you’d slept with that knife under your pillow, still not sure you could trust him yet?

“Right. Sorry,” you murmured. “I actually returned that a few nights ago. I didn’t really intend to steal it.”

Mando walked over to his bin of weapons, and rummaged through it for a moment before pulling out the knife in question. Then, he handed it to you.

“Keep it. It’ll do a lot more good with you than sitting unused on the ship.”

You took it from him awkwardly, knowing full well you looked a little lost doing so.

“What is it?” Mando asked. Your shoulders slumped, and you sheepishly cast your gaze to the side.

“I don’t actually _know_ how to fight with a knife,” you muttered, still embarrassed that he knew you had taken it, but were now admitting that you hadn’t actually known how to use it. 

However, he didn’t hesitate to say, “I’ll show you.”

That was how four weeks came and went. You jumped between the child, Cara, Mando, and Omera, always busy, always learning. You almost felt like you were trying to acquire twenty years worth of skills and knowledge as quickly as you could, not really sure why, but knowing you were enjoying the experiences all the same.

Mando had to admit that having someone on his crew willing to learn from him was kind of refreshing. He was used to hotshot mercenaries, and longtime criminals that didn’t ever give a damn about what he had to offer other than getting a job done. Instructing you and watching you learn from others was… nice. And he could see just how happy it was making you.

Maybe it wasn’t all a distraction from your past after all. Perhaps it was just what you needed to finally start moving on.

Mando was currently thinking of this as he leaned against the open doorway of Omera’s house, Cara lounging on the porch beside him. They both watched you sitting a ways off, the child in your lap, the other children huddled around you and vying for his attention. Omera emerged from the hut, and handed Cara a glass of spotchka. She turned to Mando and asked if he wanted anything, but he gave her a polite, “Maybe later,” hoping for a moment that he could eat in private.

Omera followed his gaze and smiled warmly.

“They’re very happy here,” she said.

He thought so too.

After Omera left, Cara stole a glance over at him. “So, what happens if you take that thing off?” she asked, gesturing at his helmet. “They come after you and kill you?”

“No. You just can’t ever put it back on again.”

“That’s it?” she challenged, brows rising. “So you can slip off the helmet, and settle down with that beautiful young widow, and raise your kid sitting here, sipping spotchka?”

He turned his head, expressing with his body language how irrelevant he thought that question was. Yes, Omera was very beautiful, caring, and hardworking. But that idea earned no more than a fleeting thought from him.

“Alright then. What about your girl over there?”

Again, his eyes had found you, and Cara knew it.

“She’s not my girl,” he stated flatly, willing Cara to drop the subject.

“Like hell she isn’t,” she mumbled under her breath, but Mando still heard.

“It’s not like that.”

“Enlighten me, then. What _is_ it like? Because, from my observations in the last few weeks, I’ve watched that girl go from warily following after you, to looking at you like you’re her knight in beskar armor. The way you look at her isn’t much better.”

“You can tell that by my very visible face, can you?” he deadpanned.

“You’re deflecting.”

“No, I’m pointing out that you’re assuming. And even if you were right, it wouldn’t matter.” 

Cara paused, considering him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m leaving them both here.” When Cara merely stared at him, flummoxed, he said, “Travelling with me, that’s no life for either of them. I did my job by the kid, he’s safe, and she is too. Better chance at a life, for both of them.”

Cara stayed quiet, glancing back at you to find you laughing while you watched the child play with krill.

“It’s gonna break their hearts.”

“They’ll get over it. We all do.”

Mando had already made this decision days ago. He had only stayed so long after coming to this resolution because he was stalling. He wasn’t ready to leave you and the child behind, but with a price on his head, he couldn’t really afford to stay here any longer than he already had.

So he pushed off the hut and flagged you over. You left the kid with the other children and followed him as he led you into the barn.

“What’s up?” you asked him, as he stopped in the middle of the space, standing between your cot and his, his back to you.

Quietly, Mando replied, “I should leave soon. Today, in fact.”

You were slightly taken aback by this pronouncement, but you could tell over the last couple days that Mando was starting to get reckless. You knew he was considering when you all would inevitably have to leave. Seemed like that time was now.

“That’s a little abrupt, but packing up shouldn’t take too long. We’ve mostly kept everything in here. I can help you get everything together, and we could be ready to leave by ton-”

You stopped, his words replaying in your head, as you realized what word he had very deliberately said.

Slowly, you asked, “You mean _we_ should leave soon, right?” 

He turned towards you then, and suddenly, you couldn’t read anything on him. Never having seen his face, you had become accustomed to reading the expressions he made with his body rather than his eyes. Now, though, you saw nothing. He could have been an empty suit of armor standing in front of you if you didn’t know any better.

Your heart staggered a few beats. 

“No. You and the kid are staying here.” With those words, your heart seized altogether.

“W-what?”

He was speaking again, but you couldn’t seem to comprehend his words anymore. His voice sounded far away and garbled, as if his modulator was malfunctioning. Instead, you heard a different voice, one you hadn’t heard in over a month, since you last faced Thasar.

_**He’s leaving you behind. You knew this would happen.** _

_No. No, there’s been some kind of misunderstanding._

_**He doesn’t want to deal with you or the kid anymore.** _

_Stop it! That’s not what’s happening here._

_**He doesn’t want you around anymore.** _

Panting breaths hissed through your teeth. That ringing had started up in your ears again, drowning out everything except for these horrible, awful thoughts. You tried to shake away that apprehensive voice and think of a logical explanation, completely ignoring the fact that Mando was probably explaining it to you now as you wrestled with your anxiety.

_He probably just thinks that we’ve been happy here, and that we want to stay. But that’s not true! Not if he isn’t here with us._

_**He doesn’t want you.** _

_You’re wrong!_

_**You are nothing.** _

“No!” This time your thoughts exploded from your lips, and you jerked your head up to tell Mando that he was wrong for thinking that you wanted to stay here. As much as you were enjoying your time on Sorgan, it wasn’t really about the place. It was a combination of things. Your freedom, your new friendships, the child, and him. _He_ was the reason you were happy here, and you didn’t want him to leave you behind.

But Mando was already gone. It dawned on you that you hadn’t heard the rumble of his voice for a few minutes now, while you were silently at war with yourself. When you didn’t argue with what he said, he must have taken it as an agreement and walked out. He was probably already out there now, informing Omera and the others that he was leaving, but you and the child were staying.

Before, when Thasar would use the blackhole of your anxiety as a tool to sap the fight from you, you’d fall into darkness for days, his words echoing, bouncing through your brain. So it surprised you that, instead of hearing a sob of defeat while you spiraled downward, an enraged groaning sound escaped your lips, and you spun, stomping out of the barn after him.

“He wants to just take off without us, hoping we’ll have normal lives if he’s out of the picture?” you grumbled to yourself, tone disbelieving. “Fuck that! It’s not his choice! What is he, an idiot?”

You called him every name you could think of as you trudged between the ponds of the settlement, searching for the reflection of the afternoon sun off his stupid, shiny head. Farmers scrambled out of your path as you passed by, looking after you with concern. Soon enough, your eyes fell upon him. He was several feet away, speaking with Omera. You ground your teeth and continued to march in his direction, ready to give him a piece of your mind-

A loud, echoing shot rang out, stopping you cold. The settlement became a torrent of noise, gasps and shouts calling out. You instantly turned away from Mando, seeing that he was fine, and searched for the child while every implication of that sound raced through your mind.

Had the raiders come back? Was it someone after Mando, or Cara? Was it someone after you?

You found the child among several frightened children. You scooped him up as Omera joined you, and the two of you ushered the kids back to find shelter. You were pushing the last of the children into the same hut they had been housed in for the battle against the raiders when Mando and Cara came bounding out of the woods. They’d gone off to discover the sound of the noise, and had seemingly found their answer.

“What is it?” Omera asked first.

“It was my shot,” Cara said, panting as she and Mando came to a stop before you. “There was a bounty hunter, already hunkered down to take out his target.”

Your eyes searched for Mando’s only to find that he was already looking at you, shoulders heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His expressions and body language were back, making you glad to find that you could read him again.

“Who were they after?” Omera sai, but you beat Mando to the punch.

“The child.” The four of you glanced down at the child in your arms, who in turn cooed tentatively as his ears drooped, discerning the somber mood of the group. You felt Mando’s eyes on you again before he spoke.

“How did you know that?” 

“Because if it was you, you’d already be gone,” you said, with a little more accusation in your tone than you meant to express.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, and with that, you exhaled a relieved sigh. It was in those words, and the way he said them, that you knew you had been right. Well, the logical part of you. His plan hadn’t been to take off because he didn’t want you or the child around anymore. It was because he thought he was giving the two of you something that he believed you didn’t have a chance at otherwise.

But he was still wrong. 

—

“I’m sorry,” Mando said again as the Crest broke through Sorgan’s atmosphere.

You studied him– well, you studied the back of his helmet. You and the child were sitting in your co-pilot’s chair on the Crest, the three of you having finally left Sorgan. Saying goodbye had been… painful, especially for the kid. You had all really found a place there, and had created bonds none of you were soon to forget. But you knew, for both you and the child, this was where you wanted to be.

So you stood, and scooted towards the dash. You perched yourself against it in order to face the Mandalorian, and without giving him a chance to argue, you placed the child in his lap. He grunted, and hesitantly placed a hand on the child’s back to balance him on his knee. In response, the child started to make the same purring sound he had when Winta had tearfully hugged him goodbye.

“Why do you keep saying that?” you finally asked. Mando sighed.

“You and the kid, you could have had normal lives there. You were both safe, and happy.”

“I think you misunderstood what was-” you began, folding your arms over your chest. But he shook his head and cut in.

“No, I didn’t. You were both happy. He was able to be a kid for once, and you-” He finally peeled his eyes away from the empty space ahead to look over at you. “You were able to be something you haven’t been for almost your entire life. You got to spend each day learning new things, socializing, and making friends.”

You tilted your head, giving him a doubtful expression.

“You almost completely stopped having nightmares,” he finished, as if that was the only real argument he needed. So he had known about those. He was right, of course. You had stopped having them, most likely because your heart had felt lighter in the last few weeks than it had in decades, but he was wrong about the reason why.

“Before you interrupted me, I was going to say that I agreed with you about the two of us being happy. But I was also going to tell you that you misunderstood what was causing that.”

You continued to feel his gaze bore into you, and this time, he waited for you to explain.

“For the kid, yes, he did get to be around other children for a while. But I have no doubt that he really started being an actual kid again the moment you found him. Neither of us know what his life was like before now, but you said so yourself that it probably wasn’t a great existence considering where you found him. You might have seen a spark in him playing with the other children these last few weeks, but he comes alive whenever he’s around you. He looks at you and sees the stars. Leaving him behind would have broken his heart.”

You took a second to steady yourself, your breath starting to shake from the gravity and the truth of your words.

“I know this, because it would have broken mine too. I’ve been left behind all my life. And I’m not saying it’s your responsibility to fix that. What I am saying is that, for as long as I can remember, all I’ve ever wanted was to be something to somebody. Sure, to Cara and Omera, I was an ally, maybe even a friend. To this kid, I am a guardian, someone I hope he can look up to as much as he looks up to you. And to you, I hope you know that I am your partner in all of this. When it comes to bounty hunters chasing us down, or taking care of this strange, psychic, alien baby, I have your back. And it might have taken me some time to think so, but I trust you to have mine as well.”

You wanted more than anything to look away, to avert your gaze from his acute, analyzing stare. Your goal was to correct his logic, but you were going a little bit deeper than you had originally intended with this, perhaps sharing too much. However, you couldn’t break the contact you knew you had with his eyes, even if you couldn’t see them. You remembered when you felt his attention that first time, how the weight of it was cold and uncomfortable on your chest. Now it was warm and intense, almost suffocating and overwhelming. You forced yourself to continue.

“So yes, the kid and I are happy. But it wasn’t about where we were. It’s about who we are with.”

Mando remained quiet when you finished. You waited for him to say something, _anything_ , but he just… didn’t. He was quiet for so long you started to fidget, and even the child gurgled questioningly at the silence.

Finally, he nodded, and he turned back to the expanse of space beyond the ship. You smiled, and released a soft, comforted sigh.

“Can’t get rid of us that easily, Mando.”

You straightened off the dash, turning towards the child with the intent of taking him down into the hull, and giving Mando some space to digest your words. You hadn’t even started to reach for him when the Mandalorian finally spoke.

“Din.”

You stopped, eyes widening before you whipped your head back up in his direction.

“What?” 

Mando hesitated, but resolutely continued. 

“If we’re partners, then at the very least, you should know my name.” Once again, his heavy, piercing gaze met yours. Your heart was hammering so loudly, you wondered if he could hear it, even under his helmet.

“My name is Din Djarin.”

Now it was your turn to silently stare at him, probably with a stupid, gawking look on your face. But then, as you registered his words, and the connotations behind them, your lips slowly stretched back, and you were beaming.

Seeing your smile he said, “That stays between the three of us.”

You nodded emphatically, giving him your word, and just as he was about to turn away again, you placed your hand on his arm. The crook of his elbow, in fact, where there was only fabric. No beskar.

“Thank you,” you whispered, not just because he was willing to give you his name, but because by doing so, he seemed to say _I trust you to have my back, too._

He gave you a single nod, and after a long pause, you realized you were holding onto him a lot longer than what was deemed appropriate. You pulled your hand back, already missing the warmth of the skin you could feel radiating through the fabric.

As you finally turned to leave, taking the child with you as you went, you realized a new feeling was settling inside you. Where you had felt safe and content before, you now had this feeling that was alive and tense. It was hot, and fuzzy, and scary, and intoxicating, vibrating through each and every nerve in your body. You couldn’t exactly place it, and there was some part of you that wasn’t sure you even wanted to.

With slight difficulty, you shook that feeling away, concentrating instead on that happiness you had explained to Mando- to Din.

_Din._

That feeling coursed it’s way through you again, and you shuddered.

 _Well shit_ , you thought, reeling. This feeling had only existed for a few short seconds, but it already felt like you’d had it for a lifetime.

_I’m in trouble._


	8. Voices

While the Razor Crest was a decently sized ship, it could still feel a bit cramped at times. You never liked tight spaces, but you could say you were used to sharing such close quarters with others. There were times when you had shared tiny rooms with two or three other girls in overflowing group homes, and other times when you were dragged into tight corners of Thasar’s estate by some of his business partners. So being stuck on the Crest for days on end, or crammed into that small barn back on Sorgan, hadn’t ever bothered you before.

But then everything changed. You had to admit that it wasn’t exactly instantaneous. It was a gradual change you hadn’t noticed until you were painfully aware of it. How could you not be when every time you saw the Mandalorian, your stomach would erupt in a fit of flutters, and every time he spoke, those flutters would melt into something deeper? And thanks to the confined space of the Razor Crest, seeing and hearing him was such a regular occurrence that, after two weeks of this, you were starting to lose your mind.

You just _had_ to go and tell him how much he meant to you all those days ago, how much you trusted him now, when you had every reason not to trust anyone ever again. And then he just _had_ to jump on your vulnerability wagon and tell you his name, wholeheartedly relaying that he trusted you too.

You needed to get off this gods damned ship.

That was difficult when your party hadn’t exactly found an ideal place to stay just yet. However, as much as you wanted the space to privately mull over all these troublesome feelings you were having around the Mandalorian, you’d desperately appreciate at least a few short hours off this ship for a supply run. So that’s what you suggested to Din.

“I don’t think we should go back to my usual spots,” Din said from his chair, filtering through different planets on his radar. “By now, the Guild might have discovered them and asked after me, knowing now that I visit those places every few weeks.”

You nodded from your co-pilot’s chair, assenting his point. The child was, as per usual, perched in your lap, happily fidgeting with your pendant. He was alternating between lightly sucking on it, and determinedly examining it. This kid really loved small, shiny objects.

“What if we went somewhere completely random? Just pick a planet, land and barter really quick, and then be back in space within a couple hours.”

“We’re easier targets on land. We’d risk alerting any nearby bounty hunters of our proximity,” Din stated matter-of-factly. You sighed.

“We’re risking that no matter where we go.”

“I know,” he said, thoughtfully tapping his fingers against each of the control sticks. He stared at the radar for a long moment, but finally selected a destination.

“What did you settle for?” you asked, sitting up a little to get a look over his shoulder.

“It’s a moon of the planet nearest to us. Seems to be a hub for trade. If any nearby tracking fobs go off, they’ll most likely assume we’re on the planet before they realize that we’re not. It’ll give us a little time.”

“A few hours worth, maybe?” There was a hopeful lilt to your tone.

“We shouldn’t push our luck. Two hours max.”

“Fair enough,” you agreed, relieved. Din could tell. He glanced back at you.

“What? It’s only been two weeks and you’re already starting to feel restless?”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, squelching the jitters vibrating through your body at his attention.

—

Din watched as your shoulders immediately relaxed upon disembarking the ship. He had witnessed them inch higher and higher with each day that they remained stuck out in space, searching in vain for their next sanctuary. You wouldn’t admit it, but the close quarters were finally starting to get to you.

Din knew this, because he could feel it as well. He wanted to say it was because he wasn’t used to travelling with others, but that was a complete lie. It was your presence that was making him antsy.

Whenever the two of you were in the same space on the ship, he was hyperaware of every move and sound you made. Often times, part of him was tempted to snap at you, and convince you to leave him be, so he could focus on the task at hand. But he never acted on it. He was grudgingly coming to the conclusion that he wanted that awareness of you, constantly.

Din had admitted to himself on Sorgan that he hadn’t wanted to leave you and the child behind, despite thinking it was in the best interests of you both. Now, though, it was beyond that. After everything you had said to him as the three of you left Sorgan, he wasn’t sure he could have gone through with it, no matter how determined he was. Your words had settled something in him, and he was still trying to come to terms with that.

He needed to get off that damned ship, too.

You took a few steps off the ramp, head swiveling, taking everything in. The child mimicked you as he sat in his satchel hanging against your hip. Your hand was resting against the outside of the bag, and the child’s ears twitched as he reached out with his own pudgy hands to grasp yours and hold it close. Din’s chest tightened as he looked on, and he blew out an annoyed breath at the feeling.

“Come on,” he said, trying but failing not to sound curt in his frustration. “We’re on the clock. Let’s see what we can find.”

—

Din’s hand kept finding the small of your back as he guided you through throngs of people in the market. You were very capable of maneuvering on your own, but didn’t dare say so. You were afraid that, if you gave him any indication that you were put off by this gesture, then he’d stop, and never do it again. So you smothered the butterflies dancing the conga in your stomach and allowed him to steer you along.

Aside from the very slight herded-little-lamb feeling, the gesture was very… pleasant.

Two hours flew by like that, and the two of you found everything you needed, including a drum of fuel that Din could syphon from. That would last you another couple weeks in space.

Great.

For the most part, every merchant you met had been friendly and fair. That was, until you came across a vendor selling miscellaneous parts and gadgets. Something displayed in the stall had caught your attention, and you dragged Din over to get a look. The surly old woman manning the stand eyed your approach, running a very telling glance over Din’s gleaming Mandalorian armor.

“Check these out,” you said excitedly, reaching for two earpieces that sort of reminded you of Bluetooth headsets. You handed one to Din. “They’re ear comlinks. They might come in handy.”

“What makes you say that?” Din questioned, inspecting the gadget.

“You’re going to have to take on jobs soon, and I won’t be able weasel my way into coming with you, kid in tow. We could use these to communicate, in case you wind up being gone longer than a few hours.”

Din considered this, but wound up shaking his head.

“That’s not a bad idea, but these have seen better days.” He waved the earpiece. “I’m pretty sure this one is broken.” You took it from him and examined it, then smiled up at him.

“I can fix them, though. I’m certain I could increase their range sensitivity too.”

“To how much?”

“As long as we’re on the same planet, we should have a stable connection.”

He really did like the practicality of the idea. He was also all too aware that his funds were running low, and that he’d need to rectify that soon. He hated to admit it, but he knew he’d fret if he left you and the child alone for several hours… or days. He knew you’d worry too, not knowing if he was having a difficult hunt, or if he was dead in a ditch. If you were sure you could get them working, and working _that_ well, then he wasn’t opposed to it.

“How much?” he asked the merchant woman. She once again ran an appraising eye over his armor, then named her price.

It was outrageous.

“Now way,” you argued, holding the earpieces out for the woman to see the damage. “They’re broken. They should be a fraction of the original asking price.” The woman shook her head.

“That’s a seven percent increase of what I bought them for. I have to make a profit for a living, girl.”

“I think you must be misremembering how much you purchased this junk for,” Din said lowly.

“The price is the price,” she quipped, not budging an inch. Din sighed.

“Fine. Forget it then, Y/N. I’m sure we can take our business elsewhere for a better bargain.”

Din started to leave, but then he noticed your expression and stopped. You were so focused, making deliberate eye contact with the woman, face a serene, calm mask. It almost looked like the two of you were in a trance. On a strange impulse, Din reached for your arm, planning to grab your elbow and carefully pull you out of it. But you spoke before his fingers grazed you.

“You will reconsider,” you said, voice monotone and even. “-and give us a fair deal on the broken comlinks.”

The woman blinked languidly, then straightened. Din watched, bemused, as she replied in the same monotone voice.

“I will reconsider, and give you a fair deal on the broken comlinks.”

If you could see his face, you might have laughed as his mouth slackened a little, a confused and troubled look marring his features. A far more reasonable amount of credits changed hands and you pocketed the earpieces, stroking the child’s ear as you brought your hand back to rest over him. As the woman started to blink more rapidly, coming out of whatever spell you had put her in, you quickly turned towards Din and grabbed his forearm with your free hand, pulling him away from the stall.

“Time’s up, right?” you asked, not even looking back at him. “We should get going.”

When Din found his words again, he said, “Just going to gloss right over whatever the hell that was back there?”

“Honestly, I’m still trying to figure out exactly how these powers work myself.”

As Din matched your stride through the market, you grudgingly released his arm. He looked at you sidelong.

“I thought you could only move things, like the kid.”

“If his abilities and mine are the same, I have a feeling he can do more than lift a mudhorn,” you shrugged, weaving in and out of crowds.

“Explain,” Din demanded.

“I will. When we’re back on the ship.”

—

Once you all were on course again, Din found himself watching you tinker with the earpieces. He was handing you tools when you asked for them, and waiting until you were ready to start explaining what had happened with the merchant. He had hauled the necessary equipment you needed into the cockpit, neither of you wanting to disturb the child that was sleeping down on Din’s cot. The comlinks were so small, and the tiny wiring looked a little complicated in his opinion, but you seemed to know what you were doing, so he just observed. Several times you had glanced up and noticed the set of his broad shoulders. He was waiting, but he was apprehensive, strumming like a livewire. You sighed.

“When I was a kid, there had been a couple times when I was able to-” you tried to find the right words. “- _strongly convince_ others to do or not do things.” You refocused your attention on the earpieces, working while you talked, not really wanting to meet his concealed eyes as you told him this.

“Like one of my foster moms. Her husband would slap her around, and one day I got so sick of it, I threatened to knife him in his sleep if he didn’t stop. I was barely nine; I’m not sure what made me think I could play the intimidation card. He just locked me in a closet for several days.”

You _really_ didn’t like talking about these things. However, you knew it would be easier for Din to understand the revelation you made with that woman today if you gave him a few examples. You soldiered on.

“I wasn’t sure how many days it had been, but I was starving, and I heard her walk by. I remember her opening the door when I called out to her, and I saw the absolute horror in her eyes at what her husband was doing to me. But there was also her fear of disobeying him, of the beating she would get if he saw her even talking to me. I didn’t really give a damn what she felt at that moment. She was letting him get away with it, even after I stood up for her, so she could go to hell for all I cared. But, I was _so_ hungry, so I was going to do everything I could to get her to bring me some food. I found it strange that it didn’t take much.”

Din remained completely still as you spoke. You had to keep checking his chest to make sure he was even breathing, as if his tightly clenched fists sitting atop the armrests of his chair wasn’t enough of an indication that he was taking in your every word.

“Another time, there was a foster brother. I was thirteen, and he was a lot older than me. He used to sneak into my room at night to watch me sleep. I tried to pretend like I never noticed him, hoping he’d get bored and stop. But I could tell that he wouldn’t. Something inside me told me that _I_ had to make him stop. So I told him to, and he did.”

You swallowed thickly after that one, and decided that was enough sharing for now.

“I couldn’t ever do this thing consistently. My attempts failed more often than not. That day, when we first met, I had been able to do it with Gurn to get me and the child out of that cage. But today, when I was listening to that woman, I could just tell she was lying. She hadn’t bought the comlinks. She’d stolen them, and was disappointed when she realized they were broken. She was trying to cheat us like she had been cheated.”

“How could you tell all that?” Din asked, speaking for the first time since being back on the Crest.

“I-I think that’s part of the ability. I’d never realized it before, but every time I have successfully influenced someone’s thoughts, I had been able to sort of discern what they were thinking. With the foster mom, it was her desire to help me, and her fear of getting caught. With Gurn, I could tell he was intrigued by my plan to escape, always eager to hunt me down. It was like a game to him. And then with this merchant, I could just _sense_ that she was lying, and that she thought we were made of money because of your armor.”

“So… you can read minds then?” Din asked hesitantly, but you shook your head, scrunching up your nose.

“I think that’s a strong way of putting it. It’s more like these people had unguarded, weak minds. They were more susceptible to being influenced, to me sensing what they were thinking. But it’s always been a strain. It’s not like I can sit here and hear what you’re thinking, and I hope you know that I have no desire to influence you in any way.” 

With that said, you finally met his eyes again.

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded, mulling over your words. “Do you think the kid can do these things too?” You shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know. I didn’t even know I could throw people across rooms until it happened. If I can do more than I originally thought, then… it’s possible he can do more as well.”

The two of you fell quiet then, and Din continued to watch you. As much as your explanation had sent his mind into a tailspin, watching you work was… calming. It didn’t matter if it was something like this, maintaining the ship, or playing with and caring for the kid, something about the way you did things was soothing. He couldn’t think of a better way to phrase it, but the moment he saw that focus in your eyes, and could imagine the gears turning in your brain, he felt like he could relax for once. Your presence alone took some of the pressure off, easing the constant tension he felt even before taking on the kid and crossing the Guild. He wasn’t alone in this anymore.

That’s what having a partner was for, wasn’t it? To share some of those burdens, and work through them together? Well, one of those problems the two of you would have to face together was the kid and his powers.

Technically, the child was older than you, but for whatever species he was, he was only a baby, already out there lifting mudhorns with his mind. Din knew he would have to start finding answers soon, for both you and the child, but the two of you agreed that he was comparatively more powerful. Din would need to fully understand what he was capable of in the future if he was going to continue watching over him.

Another burden being tackled together in your partnership was your past. He remembered thinking weeks and weeks ago that he wasn’t the person you should be untangling your story with, that he didn’t want to be. Now, he couldn’t imagine _not_ being that person. It was a slow process. You were always so hesitant to let even the smallest details leak, and quick to regret allowing those leaks to happen. But you still managed to keep from bottling _everything_ , and never once took back your words once you’d said them.

It made Din wonder if he could tell you about the things that he’s done, the things that gave _him_ nightmares.

“Okay!” you suddenly exclaimed, causing Din to jump out of his thoughts. He tumbled back into the present to see you clicking the plastic around the wires shut before holding out one of the earpieces for him to take.

“I think they’re good to go. Time to test these babies out!“

Din suddenly realized something as he took the earpiece, and kicked himself for not thinking about it sooner.

“I’m going to have to take my helmet off.” You only nodded, as if, unlike him, you’d already thought of this.

“Yes, but for the test, I’m gonna head to the back of the ship, so we can’t hear each other except for in these. I won’t see a thing.”

You held yours up to show him the three buttons on the outside of them.

“This one turns yours on and off. This middle button is to mute yourself, and this bottom button is to mute me,” you explained. Another stupid thought crossed his mind. How had he originally thought that this was a good idea?

“How am I supposed to mess with the buttons with my helmet on?” Again, it seemed you had already thought about this. You smiled.

“Don’t worry. I have an idea for that. Let’s just make sure they work first.”

A few moments later, when he was sure you were at the back of the hull, he slipped off his helmet. Cool air touched his cheeks and he sucked in a lungful of fresh, unfiltered air. Ever since he swore the Creed and donned the helmet, in these moments, he could never decide if he was relieved to have the thing off, or panicked until he put it back on. But that was a nearly lifelong struggle he could deal with another time. For now, he tucked the comlink into his ear, and pressed the top button to turn it on as you instructed.

“ _Din?_ ” your soft voice said over a current of static. That thing in Din’s chest lurched again, and he really wished it would stop.

“Sounds like they work,” he replied, about to pull the helmet back over his head.

“ _Yes!_ ” you whooped in victory, and his lips tugged upwards at the sound.

“ _Alright,_ ” you continued. “ _We should test the mute buttons, so don’t put your helmet back on just yet._ ”

He agreed and asked you what you wanted him to do. The two of you each tested muting yourselves, and then each other, finding that everything seemed to be in working order. You warned him you were coming back towards the cockpit, so he pulled the earpiece out and put his helmet back on. Within seconds you called up to him from the bottom of the ladder and he walked over to peer down at your beaming face.

“What was that idea of yours, then?” he asked, and your smile turned sheepish.

“Well, you’ll have to trust me for this part.” His shoulders bunched.

“Why?”

“I’m almost completely certain I can make it so you can control the earpiece from your vambrace. However, I’ll have to wirelessly connect it to the tech in your helmet.”

That fluttering in his chest from earlier evolved into a complete jolt of panic, but he quickly stifled it. Din _did_ trust you. He was going to have to start showing it. He nodded his consent.

You asked him to drop down a couple of the tools you would need, including the earpiece, then you promptly turned away from him and closed your eyes. You lifted your hands above your head and waited, until you felt the cold weight of his helmet settle into your hands.

If he thought his heart was racing, he had no idea that yours was about to come crashing out of your chest. You knew the severity of what you had asked him. He’d told you about the Creed, what it meant to wear the armor, and why it was so important to keep himself masked from any other living being. So you knew very well the faith he was putting in you as he passed down his helmet, standing maskless above you. You were _not_ going to betray that trust.

“Go ahead and stay up there for now,” you instructed. “I’m going to sit here in case I need you to toss me down any other tools.”

And so you sat, keeping your eyes closed until your back was leaning against the ladder. This way, you’d very deliberately have to crane your neck back in order to look up into the cockpit. When you opened your eyes, you glanced down at the helmet sitting gingerly in your lap. It was kind of odd, seeing the helmet without the rest of Din attached to it. 

You shook your head at the thought and flipped the helmet over, taking a look at the inside. You went to work trying to find something to make a wireless connection. You knew there had to be one, because you had seen him use his vambrace to control what he saw through the helmet. You resisted the urge to pump your fist in the air when you found it, and then rolled your eyes when you heard a slight clinking above you as Din shifted his weight.

“If you keep hovering like that, I might accidentally look up and see you,” you teased.

“I’m just making sure you don’t break anything.”

You froze, fingers stilling inside his helmet. You had just heard his voice… his real, unaltered voice, completely free of the modulator and the brief static of the earpiece. It was deep, warm, and reposeful. Those butterflies came to life once again, and heat not only touched your cheeks, but pooled in your belly. The most surprising of your reactions, though? Your eyes started to sting, tears threatening. 

“What’s wrong,” Din asked, noticing you had stopped working. You sucked in a quiet, ragged breath, blinked rapidly against the brimming tears, and shoved all those crazy emotions back, back, back. You could think about them later, but not in front of him. 

“Is umm,” you quickly tried to think of something that might have made you pause, and would possibly explain the slight quiver in your voice. “Is this allowed? I just realized- i-it’s not forbidden for someone to tamper with your armor, is it?”

_Nice save._

You couldn’t see it, but you could tell when he had shrugged his shoulders. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

 _Oh gods._ You were so desperately torn. You wanted him to keep speaking, keep talking to you forever and ever, so you could just melt into the sound of his voice. But you also wanted him to shut up until the helmet was back on, because his voice was making you feel things, and it was so distracting, and-

“I’m sure it’s fine, Y/N,” he said slowly, still wondering why you were hesitating.

“R-right,” you quickly said, getting back to the task at hand. Internally though, after hearing him say your name-

 _Gods, I am so fucked._

You worked for a couple more minutes, trying to calm yourself down, when he spoke again. 

“Kid’s awake.” You quickly glanced over and saw that the child had waddled up to you, wide eyes fixed on Din’s helmet. You smiled at him, but then noticed his puckered brow bone. He reached a stubby hand out, touching the helmet… and then his lower lip started trembling. 

“Oh no!” you exclaimed, dropping the helmet in your lap and lifting the kid to cradle him against your chest. 

“What is it?” Din asked, concern touching his tone. The child looked even more upset, hearing Din’s voice while continuing to stare at the helmet. 

“I think he thinks you’ve been decapitated,” you said, trying so, so hard to keep the panicked giggles out of your voice. The child’s reaction at seeing his Mando without a body was so cute, so heartbreaking, you weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry. 

“It’s okay, little guy, he’s safe. He’s up there, but you can’t look just yet,” you explained, pointing up at the cockpit. You heard Din step back as the child looked up, and you made quick work to finish connecting the comlink while Din spoke soothingly to the child. The sound calmed you too, allowing you to move beyond your previous feelings while you finished. 

When all was said and done, you covered both your eyes and the child’s while Din climbed down the ladder. He let you know when he had the helmet back on, then sat next to you, stealing the child from your lap as he instantly reached for his Mando. 

You watched them for a moment.

 _These two are going to be the death of me_ , you thought. 

“Are you going to keep your earpiece on all the time?” he asked, pulling you from your happy thoughts. You nodded. 

“Yeah, I think so. But don’t worry, I’ll mute myself if we’re in the same space, or if I’m annoying you with my constant blathering,” you laughed. Din shook his head, though. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said thoughtfully, eyes still on the child. “I don’t mind the blathering. In fact, I find a kind of solace… in the sound of your voice.”

Your eyes widened, and your cheeks lit up once again. 

_Yeah, I am definitely fucked._


	9. Panic

As it turned out, it wasn’t safer for the three of you out in space than it was on land. It hadn’t been more than a day after you had acquired the comlinks that the Razor Crest was accosted by a bounty hunter. The shootout that ensued caused a lot of external damage that you weren’t skilled enough to repair on your own.

Thanks to Din’s clever maneuvering, he was able to get rid of the hunter, and safely land the Crest in a spaceport bay on a desert planet. As he lowered the back ramp and you helped the child settle into his satchel, three little pit droids ran up to assess the ship’s damage. Din quickly whipped out his blaster and fired a warning shot at their feet, surprising you. You wondered for a second if he was jumpier after this encounter than he was letting on, but, as if sensing your questioning gaze, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “I don’t like droids.”

The mechanic on hand approached you, berating Din for firing at her droids. Her name turned out to be Peli, and as the three of you walked around the ship– the child tagging along in the satchel against your hip– she relayed her observations of the repairs needed, and the money it would cost. You could tell it was more than Din had by the set of his shoulders. You were tempted to remind him of the “communal fund”, but knew it would be useless. He was just as stubborn as you were about that money.

Besides, the two of you had just discussed this the day before. Din needed to find work, and you weren’t going to be able to go with him this time. He promised Peli he’d get her the money, told you he’d be back in a bit to prepare for whatever job he found, then took off.

He was only gone for about thirty minutes, in which time you watched Peli work and asked questions. You were used to working on engines and the electrical parts of these ships, but nothing as large scale as the damage caused by an attack from another ship. You helped Peli with a lot of the rewiring needed, though, as she normally left stuff like that to her droids. At least this would help lower the cost a little, as she begrudgingly admitted she wouldn’t charge Din for any work she didn’t do.

When Din returned, the two of you had already made a lot of progress, and you were hopeful that the Crest would be back in flying shape by the following evening.

“Did you find anything?” you asked as Din came striding over to you. He nodded.

“There’s a kid trying to get into the Guild. He’s got his first mark and said he’d give me the pay if I helped. He just wants the reputation to get in.” 

You frowned. “Is it such a good idea to work on something this close to the Guild?”

“The job pool is dry otherwise,” he said while having the audacity to shrug nonchalantly. He watched as your frown grew, so he tilted his head, body language sobering.

“He isn’t a part of the Guild yet, or else he’d know that my bounty or the kid’s are much more appealing to him than the one he’s got.”

“Who’s the target?”

“Fennec Shand. She’s a high profile mercenary.”

“Is she dangerous?”

“Very.”

You sighed through your nose, holding his eyes through the visor of his helmet. You had to remind yourself that this sort of thing was his profession, his livelihood. You’d seen him take on raiders and a walker firsthand, and have heard about some of his past hunts that he had been willing to share. You knew there were jobs he had taken that were unsavory compared to the ones he had been doing in recent years. He never said so, but you could just tell that, like you, he had a story he wasn’t keen on sharing.

The point, though, was that Din had been doing jobs like this for a long time before you and the kid came along. So you weren’t going to stop him from taking them, despite the strong suspicion you had that he wouldn’t take this one if you pushed.

No. This is what he hired you to do. You were to watch over the kid and the ship, giving him the opportunity to make a living the only way he knew how.

As if it was just a reflex now, you reached out and clasped his forearm.

“Just be careful, okay? Don’t get yourself killed because some hotshot wants to take on a tough bounty to get into the Guild.” You almost stopped yourself from saying the next few words. But you swallowed the fear of how much of yourself you were putting into them, and said them anyway.

“Come back to us.”

Din pulled his arm back, and for a fraction of a second, your heart clenched, thinking he was rejecting your sentiment. But he only moved so that he could clasp your fingers in his gloved ones. He gave your fingers a light squeeze.

“I will.”

It was such a short, Din answer, you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

You followed him out of the hangar so you and the child could see him off. He hounded you with reminders the whole way.

“Do you have your blaster?”

“What about your knife?”

“Do you remember all the things Cara and I taught you?”

It reminded you of when you were eleven, and had tried your hand at babysitting for some extra pocket money. It took several minutes for the parents to even walk out the door as they showed you where the emergency numbers were and how to set the security system, asking you again and again if you remembered everything. Only this time you smiled warmly as you assured him that if anything happened, you’d be able to tell him right away with the comlinks, and you’d be able to hold your own until he got back.

Because, in this case, Din wasn’t a fretting parent, worried about leaving his child with a stranger for the first time. He was someone that cared about your wellbeing as much as the child’s. And that thought made your heart and your stomach take up each other’s hands and waltz around your insides.

The three of you met the rookie outside as he lounged against one of two speeder bikes.

“Hey, Mando, what do you think? Not too shabby, huh?” he said, sounding proud of himself. Apparently, it had been his job to find the bikes. He introduced himself to you as Toro as Din inspected them. His eyes briefly landed on the child, and he gave him a slightly bemused look before turning his attention back to the Mandalorian. Din didn’t look too impressed with the bikes.

“What’d you expect? This ain’t Corellia,” he said in his defense. 

Din cast you a sidelong glance, and deliberately showed you when he lifted his vambrace and pressed a button, causing your earpiece to crackle as his came to life. Then, he swung a leg over the bike, and they both took off.

—

Again, you passed the time with Peli working on the Crest. You let the child wander, always keeping him in sight and making sure he kept away from the observing droids. You knew Din wouldn’t like the child near them. You wondered why he didn’t like droids. It was kind of a shame, really. They seemed pleasant enough, and you had always liked working with the ones in Thasar’s personal bay. 

While you kept an eye on the kid, you kept an ear on Din. For the longest time, all you could hear was the sound of the bike racing across the sand. At one point, he had stopped to negotiate with some locals. At least, that was what you had assumed. The bargaining itself was rather silent. You were able to barely pick up Toro’s protest, however, when Din handed his binocs over to the locals.

_“Those were brand new!”_

_“Yeah? They were,”_ Din deadpanned, and you laughed.

They found their target shortly after that… and by found, you were referring to the fact that Din was hit twice by sniper bolts while inspecting a downed hunter still tied up on a dewback’s saddle. He’d gotten back to Toro and cover well enough though, assuring you as you panicked that he was fine.

 _“Covered in beskar, remember?”_ he’d said, as if that should calm you. 

It didn’t even calm Toro, who must have thought Din was reassuring _him_ and said, _“Wait, I don’t wear any beskar.”_

 _“Nope,”_ was Din’s reply.

He decided to wait until nightfall to make their next move. When that time finally came, you anxiously listened as Peli entertained the child. The plan didn’t go over too well from what you could tell. Din was shot at again, and you were certain he was hit at least once. But you heard the telltale twang of the shot hitting beskar, so you remained quiet, knowing he was fine and not wanting to distract him. After a few more minutes, though, it seemed Toro was able to distract their target long enough for Din to sneak up and get the upper hand. They captured Fennec.

You released a shaky breath and slumped down to sit on the back ramp of the Crest.

“I don’t think I can listen to you out on jobs anymore,” you said, hand clutching your chest over your racing heart. “That was terrifying.”

Din chuckled quietly so only you could hear, then set to work on figuring out how to transport Fennec Shand back across the desert. The problem now was that Din’s bike was out of commission, as it had fallen prey to one of Fennec’s sniper bolts.

In the end, Din left Toro with Fennec to go find the dewback they had seen earlier.

You were able to focus on the ship again for a while, now that you were sure Din was safe and would be making his way back soon. You still talked to him through the night, though, perhaps to assure yourself that he really was fine, or simply because you really, really liked the sound of his voice, modulated or not. However, as the two suns rose and Din made his way back with the dewback to where he had left Toro and Fennec, he cursed as he found the scene not as he had left it.

 _“Y/N,”_ he said, tone wary.

“Hmm?” 

_“Fennec’s dead.”_

“What? H-how? Is Toro-”

 _“He’s gone. Speeder bike is gone too. He must have killed Fennec and taken off._ ”

“But why would he do that? He needed to bring her in alive in order to get into the Guild.”

Din was silent for a moment, thinking this through, just as you were. He must have come to the same conclusion just as you did, as he said, _“He’s got a head start on me. Hide the kid, and prepare yourself. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”_

“You think he’s caught on to a higher profile bounty than Fennec?”

 _“Yes,”_ Din said curtly. _“And I doubt he’ll leave without both parts of it.”_

“Okay,” you said, tone resolute. “I’ll keep him busy until the second half of his Guild ticket gets here.”

—

Fortunately, Din told you that you had a little time. It would take Toro most of the day to ride back to town. You told Peli what was going on, and the two of you rushed to finish the repairs on the Crest. You wanted it to be ready for escape once Din got back and handled Toro. As night fell, Peli hid herself somewhere in the hangar, backup in case you needed it. But you didn’t want to give Toro anymore ammunition to use as leverage against you, like a hostage.

You bustled the child into the hidden compartment that was Din’s cot, apologizing for leaving him in there alone while you reasoned with him to be still and quiet. He seemed to understand the gravity of your mood and did as he was told. Then, you started stacking the bins at the back end of the ship wide enough and tall enough so you could hide behind them without being seen. Toro was going to come onto the ship looking for the kid, and this was your trap for him.

Something Zekir had always impressed upon you was that others would underestimate you, and that was possibly your greatest weapon. As much as you hated anyone agreeing with him, Cara had said the same. You weren’t large and strong like she was, or a skilled, longtime combatant like her or Din. But you could hold your own in short bursts that surprised your opponents long enough to gain the upper hand, so that’s what you were going to do with Toro.

You kept your blaster holstered and your knife within reach. You couldn’t afford both you and Toro firing at each other within the confined space of the Razor Crest, nor were you skilled enough with a blade yet to be confident in fighting him with anything other than your bare hands. You stood there behind the bins, anticipating his approach, knowing that he would most definitely have his blaster out, ready to threaten you or the child with it.

Din kept asking for check-ins, but you only hummed to him quietly, assuring him nothing had happened yet. You didn’t want to risk Toro hearing you, not knowing when he’d be sneaking into the hangar. But you heard him soon enough.

His quiet footfalls shifted in the sand, then quietly padded up the ramp of the Crest. You waited, holding your breath as he drew closer, not daring to move until you saw the tip of his blaster or his boot. You steeled every last nerve inside of you, focusing all of your concentration on the next few seconds.

You saw his blaster first. You quickly shot your left hand out and grabbed the barrel of the blaster. Thankfully, he wasn’t a complete trigger happy idiot, as his finger hadn’t been on the trigger. You yanked the barrel down, and twisted in front of him, bringing the heel of your right palm up to crash against his nose.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t with enough force to break his pretty face, but you knew sure as hell how painful it was to take a direct hit to the nose. Toro cried out, head snapping back. You brought that same hand down on his right shoulder—the other hand still holding his blaster down—grabbed a fistful of his jacket and pulled him towards you. You met him halfway, hitting him with your signature knee to his gut, twice.

Toro gasped and curled in on himself. You dragged your right hand down to meet your left one and pulled back, dragging him forward onto the ground by his arm, then twisted it, turning yourself so that you could stand over his back, his arm wrenched at an angle so uncomfortable, it would hurt him to move. It was easy then to break the hold he had on the blaster. You wrest it from him before dropping his arm and pointing the blaster at his back.

This all happened in a matter of seconds, and Toro groaned as the whirlwind subsided.

“You’ve made a mistake,” he breathed, turning his head back to look at you. “I’m Mando’s partner, remember? We got separated, and I came back to look for him.”

 _Came looking for him with a blaster raised? I don’t think so_ , you thought, but you actually said, “Actually, _I’m_ Mando’s partner, and he warned me about what you really came back for.”

“What the hell,” Toro moaned, obviously still feeling the pain in his nose, stomach, and arm. “Fennec said you were just some Earthling slave girl.”

“Well, she wasn’t wrong. But that doesn’t make me any less capable of kicking your ass.”

A chuckle tickled your ear, and Din said, so quietly you were sure you weren’t meant to hear it, _“That’s my girl.”_

If this had been any other moment, you knew your heart would have swelled with pride and affection. Well, of course it did, but you had a job to do, and you weren’t going to be distracted from protecting that kid… until that kid came waddling towards you, curiously eyeing the situation. You quickly glanced towards the hidden compartment, and found the door open. How had he gotten out? How had you not noticed? 

“Stop!” you barked, panicked. He startled to a halt, gazing up at you in confusion. You had never spoken to him like that before. But he was dangerously close to Toro, and even if you had a blaster trained on him, you didn’t trust that he wouldn’t reach out and snatch the kid, using him against you to make you back down. 

You heard Din call your name over the comlink, asking what was going on, but you ignored him. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you said, tone pleading. “I’m so sorry, but you need to stay back. It’s too dangerous for you here.”

The child took a slow step back, brow bone still bunched in confusion. You nodded at him encouragingly, smiling to make up for your harsh tone before. You opened your mouth to tell him that was good, to keep moving back-

But then an electrifying pain coursed through you, originating from your ankle, and channeling through every nerve ending in your body. You gasped, then gritted your teeth, trying like hell not to scream. You couldn’t scream. You knew pain. You knew how to pace yourself through it. But the scream eventually ripped out of you as the agonizing current of electricity surged through you over, and over, and-

You heard the child’s terrified wailing, and Din’s panicked shouting in your ear, but all you knew was pain…and then nothing.

Toro pulled the small, taser-like weapon back and watched you collapse, blaster clattering beside you. He grabbed for it and scrambled up, then stared down at you, nudging you with the toe of his boot to make sure you were really out. When you didn’t stir, he huffed a slightly victorious laugh, and kicked you over the lip of the ramp. You rolled down it, landing in a heap at the bottom. He kind of hoped he hadn’t killed you with that shock– it wasn’t exactly a low voltage device– as there were a lot of things he could do with an Earthling. 

As Toro turned towards the child, who was still babbling with frightened concern, he noticed something move out of the corner of his eye. Sure that it was Mando, he quickly turned the blaster on you, expecting that threat to give him the advantage. It did make the intruder freeze, but it wasn’t Mando. 

Toro assumed it was the mechanic that managed the hangar. The corners of his lips twitched as he met her terrified eyes. She was holding a blaster on him, but her conviction fell when she saw him aiming at you. 

“I’m curious as to who the faster shot would be. Me?” He waggled his blaster tauntingly in your direction. “Or you?”

The mechanic resignedly lowered her blaster.

“That’s a good girl,” Toro hummed, giving her a megawatt smile. “Now, come on over here. We’ll all wait for Mando together.”

—

Panic. This was what raw, unadulterated panic felt like. Din had only felt it at this magnitude one other time in his life. The day when he had lost everything.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed for sixth or seventh time since he’d heard your terrible scream pierce through the earpiece. But you weren’t responding.

Din’s mind kept racing through the worst possible conclusions. What happened to you? What was happening to the kid? What if he had just lost everything once again?

He was thankful for how close he had been when he heard that sound come tearing out of you. Close enough to slide off the dewback and sprint the last gap into the town limits as night fully fell. He slowed to a sneaking gate and pulled out his blaster as he slipped into the hangar, hoping to catch Toro by surprise. But Toro had been waiting, and he spotted Din quickly enough.

“Took you long enough, Mando,” he said, standing on the back ramp of the Razor Crest, the child in one hand, a blaster in the other. He held it on Peli as she stood in front of them. “Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?”

Din’s racing heart galloped even harder when he spotted you, crumpled at the bottom of the ramp. You lay curled on your side, back facing him, unmoving. Toro seemed to comprehend where Din’s gaze had gone, and he gave a falsely sad shake of his head, moving towards you. Din’s body had already been taught with turmoil and anticipation, but still his muscles seized as Toro inched closer to your prone form.

Said man reached his foot out, catching your shoulder and nudging you hard enough to push you onto your back. Your head lolled limply to the side, and Din could see the mask of pain still touching your brows, and the grimace on your lips. His fingers tightened on his raised blaster, jaw clenching, vision reddening.

“I really hope I didn’t kill her,” Toro said. “I _think_ she’s breathing, but I didn’t have time to check.” He gave a passive sort of shrug. “Did you know you were toting around a slave that had killed her master, Mando? Setting aside the fact that she’s also an Earthling for a moment, someone had the Guild put a pretty heavy price on her head. With Fennec, I didn’t care about the bounty money. But considering that the amount of credits I can get for this Earthling is upwards to five or six times as much as Fennec’s bounty, I’d say I’ve changed my mind on the matter.”

Din said nothing, and Toro smirked. 

“That said, I’ve decided I’ll be turning in a Guild traitor, the target he helped escape, and an exotic murderer for my first job.”

Din was absolutely vibrating with his desire to end this kid. But he had to repress such a reckless impulse and remind himself that the child’s life was still on the line, even if… even if yours wasn’t. And lest he forget poor, innocent Peli, who he had inadvertently roped into all this.

Toro ordered Din to drop his blaster. He did so, and raised his hands over his head as Toro instructed Peli to head over and cuff him. She made her way over to Din, coming to a stop behind him… and noticed the flash charge in his raised hand.

“You’re smarter than you look,” she whispered.

“Fennec was right,” Toro concluded, unsuspecting. “Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.”

Din activated the charge, causing a whirlwind of commotion. He and Peli dove out of the way as Toro started blindly firing at them. Din rushed behind some equipment and came up on the left side of the ramp. Toro spun to take aim at him, but Din was faster. He shot the Guild wannabe, and he toppled off the ramp, dead before he hit the ground.

As everything died down, he and Peli ran forward, looking for where Toro would have dropped the child. When Peli spotted him and scooped him up, she pushed Din back, “He’s fine. He’s fine. Go check on your girl over there.”

With the knowledge that the kid was good enough for now, Din spun back around in your direction. Without really considering the rush of thoughts and emotions storming through him, he yanked off his gloves as he knelt beside you. Gingerly, he brought his hands up to cup your face, lightly brushing back a few strands of your hair that were haphazardly covering your features. His right hand came to rest on your neck, allowing him to release a breath he hadn’t known he was holding when he felt your strong pulse fighting against the pads of his fingers. The thumb of his other hand lightly traced across your cheekbone, over and over.

“Y/L,” he murmured, quietly but firmly, urging you to wake. There was a short moment of resurging panic when you didn’t stir right away, but after a little more coaxing, your eyes fluttered open.

“Din?” Your waking sigh was a bemused, but contented one. But then your thoughts shifted towards the child and you bolted upright, wincing, but on high alert.

“He’s okay,” Din said softly. “Peli’s got him.”

You sagged in relief, collapsing against Din’s side.

“He’s okay,” you repeated in a whisper, eyes closing in what he could only assume was exhaustion. Hesitantly, he placed his bare hand against the small of your back, holding you there against him.

“You both are,” he said, finally allowing the tension of the last several hours to dissipate. Everything he cared about was safe.

For now.


	10. Two Hearts

You felt a sense of déjà vu as the current scene played out. Din was carrying you up the ramp of the Razor Crest while you incoherently protested the entire time. It was almost comically similar to the day you had first met. You had been shot, had expended a great deal of energy throwing people across rooms with your mind, and had killed the man that had enslaved and tortured you for ten years. The level of exhaustion and soreness you felt now was almost on par with how you had felt that day.

The only difference between this moment and before was the absolute trust and adoration you had for the man carrying you now.

Din gently set you down so you were sitting on your cot, then murmured that he would be right back. He needed to grab the child and conclude his business with Peli. You wished you could say goodbye to her, and apologize for the mess you had dragged her into, but you barely had enough energy to stay upright, let alone properly express your gratitude. Besides, you knew Din would do it for you.

Din returned and raised the ramp, preparing for departure. He wanted you to lay down and rest, but knew you wouldn’t without fully assuring yourself that the child was unharmed. So he passed the kid off to you and went to get the ship back out on course, giving you a few minutes alone with the child.

The child clung to you as he had done to Din a couple nights before, when he had thought his Mando had been decapitated. His fingers clutched at your shirt while he babbled at you, as if you were supposed to understand every single noise of his little baby language. You gave him a weak smile.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you assured him, stroking his ear. “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, kiddo. I didn’t mean to. I was a little scared.”

He cooed, ears perking up, and you took that as forgiveness. You sighed and hugged him close, his fuzzy little head tickling your cheek. He started making that funny purring noise, like the time he had said goodbye to his friend Winta. You wondered what emotion brought that sound out of him. With Winta, he had been sad. With you now, he seemed relieved. He was such an odd little frog. 

You were starting to rock him when Din came back down the ladder.

“Everything working okay?” you asked, wondering for the first time how the ship was fairing after all the repairs. Din only nodded before crouching down in front of you.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” he questioned. “I’m not even sure what he did to you.”

“He used some kind of taser, I think. Rhet used to use one, but this one was stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before. Enough to knock me out.” Din flexed his fingers to keep from clenching them. 

“A tissue burn, then. Where did he-”

You lifted your left leg. Sure enough, there were two dark, shallow holes on the inside of your lower leg near your ankle. He gently grasped the outside of your ankle and moved closer to inspect the injury through the visor of his helmet. You held your breath, cheeks warming a little. 

After a moment, Din turned towards the supply counter and pulled out the first aid kit. He grabbed what he needed, and, just like that first day, he cleaned and bandaged your wound. 

But again, everything was so much different now than that first day. 

“Rest,” Din ordered when he finished, setting your foot back down on the ground. You shook your head. 

“I’m fine now,” you said, noticing that the child had snatched your necklace again. You gently pulled your pendant out of his mouth. You didn’t mind him handling it, you just didn’t want him to start chewing on it. Din heaved an annoyed sigh, seeing through your stubbornness. He was right. That shock had left you feeling sore and lethargic. But you…

Well, you were reveling in the Mandalorian’s attention. That sounded so silly, but he was being so gentle, and thoughtful, and there was genuine concern oozing from every inch of his body. It had been such a long time since someone had taken care of you like this. A very long time. You didn’t want it to end.

Din watched you dangle your pendant in front of the child, teasingly moving it away whenever he reached for it. It reminded him of what he had spotted at a stall in town after first meeting Toro. So much had happened since then, he’d nearly forgotten about it. He also wasn’t sure now was the best time to bring it up.

However, a new thought tickled it’s way to the front of his mind as he watched you, your eyes clearly flagging despite the assurances that you were fine. Perhaps he could use what he’d found to his advantage.

“I-” he paused, trying to think of the right way to bring this up. He wasn’t sure he had ever actually done something like this before.

“I picked up something in town yesterday, before Toro and I left.” You smiled over at him.

“What is it?”

“Something I thought you could use." 

Your smile grew. "Like a gift?" 

He made a show of contemplating his response.

"Perhaps.”

You watched him intently, eagerly waiting for him to show you, your smile a full-blown grin now. But instead of reaching for anything out of sight, Din reached for the kid, plucking him from your arms.

“You can have it after you’ve rested,” he reasoned, standing back up to his full height. You narrowed your eyes at him.

But your smile broke through and you yanked your sheets back on the cot. You quickly scuttled underneath them and burrowed down, tucking the sheets up under your chin. You went back to staring up at him expectantly. He couldn’t help it. He chuckled. 

He set the child down on a stack of bins, then reached for his back pocket. After a second of excited anticipation, you watched him pull his hand back in front of him, the item hanging from his gloved fingers.

Your smile immediately vanished and you jumped up so fast you swayed, your heart jumping between your stomach and your throat. You steadied yourself before Din could push you back down, and stared wide-eyed at the thing he held out to you.

It was a long, sturdy, dark gold chain. You felt your brows crease together as you reached for it, sure that your stuttering heart was causing your fingers to shake. You immediately knew what the chain was for without him having to explain it. Out of anyone else in the whole galaxy, Din understood what your pendant meant to you. A gift from the people that loved you more than anyone else ever could? Priceless in the eyes of someone like you. Someone like him too.

Ever so observant, he had noticed how many times you needed to tie off that flimsy string you’d found back on Sorgan as it frayed over the following weeks. So he had seen this chain and thought of that. Thought of you.

Suddenly, everything you had been feeling in the last several weeks crested over you like a wave. You thought about hearing his voice and his rare chuckles, the feeling of his touch even behind layers of fabric and beskar, and about holding his trust and his confidence when you knew very few people did. You thought about getting to talk to him and sharing your life with him every day on this cramped, stupid, wonderful ship… just you, him, and the child. All of these thoughts became a hurricane of emotions in your mind, and you knew. You _knew_.

_I love him._

This understanding brought you so much happiness, but sadness too. Because you couldn’t have the man that held your heart, and you weren’t sure you were even capable of letting him have you. You wondered how you had fallen so fast, and so hard for a man you had never seen. But then you inwardly chastised yourself because you _had_ seen him. You knew there was darkness in him, just as there was darkness in you. But you knew his heart too. You didn’t need to see his face to see his heart.

As you stared down at the chain in your trembling fingers with an overwhelming mixture of awe, giddiness, and painful sadness, tears brimmed, blurring your vision, and tumbled down your cheeks. You startled a little when gloved fingers brushed against your cheek, wiping the tears away and tilting your face up to meet the eyes of the man you loved so much. You found yourself wishing you could feel his skin against yours, as you had when you’d awoken earlier to the feeling of his calloused hands cupping your face.

“Why are you crying?” His voice was barely more than a broken breath. It startled him a little. In all the time he had known you, after seeing and hearing about all the pain you had overcome, he had not once seen you cry.

“Because I’m happy,” you whispered, only relaying a half-truth. His helmet tilted, gaze piercing.

“It’s only a chain,” he said softly, but there was a touch of wonder to his tone. You shook your head.

“No, it’s not. Not to me. And you know that.”

He _did_ know that. This wasn’t like the trinkets and things that Thasar had given you to bribe your complacency. Din had known the moment he’d laid eyes on it what a gift like that would mean to you. He’d hesitated when he realized just how quickly the transition was between seeing the chain to thinking _I have to get that for her._ It… frightened him, how quickly and how strongly he had thought that.

The connection he had felt growing between the two of you was like exploring a cave. The idea of something lying in wait for him was intriguing, and he couldn’t help following that urge. Sometimes the passages were large and easy to navigate. Other times it would branch off into narrow, uncharted crevices. He often struggled against the practicality of diving headfirst into those crevices, but found that the pull he felt towards you outweighed his reservations. He wanted that connection to go deeper. 

Squeezing and crawling his way through those tight passages was terrifying, but also exhilarating and satiating.

He’d come to discover that there was a ruthlessness to you that he could relate to. That wasn’t to say that you lacked compassion where it mattered. He’d been a witness to your kindness and empathy since the day he’d first seen you protecting the child, and every day since. And the child wasn’t the only thing you were protective of. Just as you had promised, you always had his back, standing at his side and supporting him as he navigated this life on the run. 

All that said, though, seeing the cards you had been dealt in life, he had no question as to how that callous side of you existed. You were plagued by nightmares and haunted by ghosts, but you absolutely refused to allow those things to hold you down. Instead, you used them as tools, as lessons to learn and grow from. 

You often referred to him as a hardened warrior, but you didn’t seem to realize that warriors were forged in many different ways. You were the one that had to fight your way through every single day of the last twenty years, and the amount of raw determination that must have taken absolutely baffled him. In his eyes, y _ou_ were the hardened warrior.

In all his travels, of all the hundreds of people and creatures he had crossed paths with, he didn’t think he had ever met someone as strong and as beautiful as you. Or someone he wanted as much as he did you.

Din thought about that as he watched you pull your pendant off the scrappy length of string and replace it onto the chain. When had that happened? When had things changed to the point where he wanted you as a partner in _every_ way? With the women of his past, relationships had been nothing more than passing flings to satisfy a need as prevalent in one’s life as eating or drinking. Sure, perhaps he had been closer to a few of his relations more than others, spawning multiple trysts when he normally indulged in no more than one. 

But with you, everything was different.

Had it happened on Sorgan? It was possible Cara’s needling on the subject might have brought the concept he had initially been trying to suffocate to the surface. Had it happened when the three of you fled that sanctuary? Perhaps your confession in trusting him, in having his back no matter what happened had stirred something inside of him. After all, when was the last time someone had wholeheartedly and unabashedly trusted him like that?

Or had it happened when he’d been staring down at you from the cockpit, anxiety running high as you held his metaphorical wall so delicately in your hands, in the shape of his helmet? No one has ever been in his presence when he’s taken it off. Let alone held onto it while he stood by, thrumming with the fear that you’d look up and see him, and the panic of realizing that he wanted you to.

Really, he couldn’t say when that change had happened, and it didn’t matter either way. He had a Creed to uphold, and you had your own wall he didn’t dare do more than occasionally poke and prod at. The space between you, right here and now, as you pulled your necklace back on only a few inches away from him- that was where this partnership would remain.

You looked up at him again, and his heart stumbled as you met his gaze with a teary-eyed grin that was brimming with equal parts happiness and sadness. Din couldn’t help but think that the way you were looking at him—as Cara had so delicately related to your knight in beskar armor—would be his undoing. But then you did something he expected about as much as the tears still rolling down your cheeks.

You threw your arms around his neck, pendant clicking against his breastplate as you drew yourself close. Din tensed, surprised and unsure, until you quietly whispered, “Thank you,” against his collarbone. He relaxed, almost slowly melting into your embrace as he hesitantly slid his own hands around your waist. It was a little awkward, but he managed it, and huffed his held breath as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Will you rest now?” he implored, simultaneously thinking that it wasn’t the way you looked at him that would be his undoing. No. Whatever it was, though, it was coming, sooner rather than later. And he feared that he wouldn’t be able to stop it… that he wouldn’t _want_ to stop it.

You nodded your answer against his chest, silently meeting the child’s eyes as he watched the strange event unfolding before him with a bemused tilt of his head. You quietly laughed and relished in the feeling of his arms around you. You were so close, the closest to him you had ever been, and you told yourself that this had to be enough. Unbeknownst to you, he was telling himself the same thing.

Little did either of you realize, though, was that both your hearts were so in sync as the two of you knew– but ignored– just how much you were lying to yourselves.


	11. Hide-and-Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a bonus chapter written after Part 1 was initially finished and is officially labeled as Chapter 10.1. I have a few chapters like this in the story, but the total is still 20. :)

After everything that had happened with Toro back on the desert planet, Din once again found himself out in space, contemplating ways to go around the Guild and make a few fast credits. He did have one idea, which included visiting an old crew he used to run with, but he didn’t really like the thought of it. It actually sounded like a bad idea altogether. So he put that one on the backburner for now, deciding only to consider it if he couldn’t think of anything else. 

While he sat in his cockpit, navigating places the three of you could possibly rest and stretch your legs for a few hours, he heard you and the child giggling together down in the hull through his earpiece. From what he had discerned around thirty or so minutes ago, you were teaching him a game called “hide-and-seek”. The kid seemed to like it, as Din heard an occasional squeal of delight whenever you had found him, and a torrent of giggles whenever he had found you.

Din kept himself muted on the comlinks, content to just listen to the two of you enjoying yourselves for a short while as he considered ways to bring in more money. He lost himself in thought for a moment, your soft voice lulling him into some semblance of relaxation as you counted. It must have been the kid’s turn to hide. Sure enough, Din was soon startled out of his thoughts, as he felt tiny hands grappling at his side.

He glanced down and saw the kid tugging at his cape, pulling it slightly from where it sat between Din and his chair. He tucked it around himself and shuffled closer into Din’s side. Din shot a look over his shoulder towards the ladder, then back down at the kid as he finished adjusting the cape around him. The little womp rat had done a good job making it look natural, like he wasn’t hiding against Din’s side.

“How did-” Din cut himself off and sighed. Nevermind. He should have learned by now to stop asking questions when it came to the kid. He’d stopped a mudhorn mid-charge, of all things. Lifted it with his mind. If he could do that, he was surely capable of somehow climbing that ladder by himself.

“ _Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. One hundred! Ready or not, little frog, here I come!_ ” Din heard you call out, both from the earpiece and from beyond the ladder. He went back to tinkering with his radar, deciding to let the kid have his fun and use him as a hiding spot. Din imagined it would take a good long while for you to find him. Neither of you had tried hiding up in the cockpit yet.

He listened for several minutes as you shuffled around, checking the limited space of the Razor Crest. The child waited quietly and patiently, chubby little hands clutching at his side. After a while, Din heard you huff, and he could just picture you with your hands on your hips, taking another cursory glance around for any hiding spots you might have missed before slowly glancing towards the ladder. Right on cue, it seemed, he heard you make your way up, your hitched breathing tickling his ear just slightly as you ascended.

“Hey,” you mock whispered as you crept up behind him, moving almost silently. He assumed you were trying not to alert the kid as to your whereabouts, which seemed strange. _He_ was the one who was hiding. 

Din turned, spinning his chair to the right, further hiding the child from your searching gaze. When you saw that you had his attention, you muted your comlink and cupped one hand around your mouth conspiratorially. 

“Did you see the kid come up here at all?”

 _Cheater_ , Din thought. You were supposed to find him on your own. He was thankful for the helmet hiding the slight twitch of his lips, and masked his voice to take on a slightly exasperated tone. 

Turning back to the dash he said, “You lost him?”

“No!” He didn’t miss the slight hesitation in your voice, as if you were wondering for the briefest moment if you really _had_ lost him. The twitch of his lips was harder to control this time. 

“We’re playing a game. He’s supposed to hide, and I have to find him. But he doesn’t seem to be anywhere in the hull.”

“You must have missed a spot. I highly doubt he climbed up here by himself.” Din suddenly pictured you going back down and searching every nook and cranny, knowing full well that the child wasn’t down there, and it amused him. You sighed.

“You’re probably right. He keeps getting better at hiding each time. I think he started outsmarting me a few turns ago and figured out that he could move to a spot I’d already checked.” 

Din hummed mildly, trying to appear uninterested. He could feel the child against his side, practically vibrating with anticipation as he heard you standing so close. After another moment of you glancing around the small cockpit, you sighed again. 

“I’ll go have another look. Maybe see if I can outsmart him this time.” Din nodded, and you retreated. 

Just as Din saw your reflection in the front shield reach the ladder, the child tried and failed to suppress a small giggle. He must have thought that you’d already made it down into the hull. Din saw you freeze at the sound, then take a slow step backwards, turning your head to make sure you’d heard right. Try as he might to appear as if he hadn’t heard anything, it seemed that you were getting better and better at reading him and his body language with each passing day. 

He saw your reflection glance at him, eyes squinting in suspicion. Slowly, you walked up to his side, eyes never straying from the hole they were drilling into the side of his head. Din stopped fussing with the controls on the dash, tensing as you scrutinized him, then finally, out of his peripheral vision, he saw you glance down to his side. 

At first, your face broke out into a huge grin. A smile so warm and open that his breath caught, and he was tempted to turn fully in your direction just to see it clearly. But then you schooled your features into a cool smirk. You leaned in close– the lights of the dash glinting against the golden chain he had gifted you as it shifted, dangling your red pendent between the two of you– and whispered, “You are such a traitor.”

You lunged, fingers dancing through the folds of his cape, laying down an assault of tickles on the child. He shrieked, laughing and squirming until you uncovered him. Din couldn’t fight it anymore as you scooped the kid up; his lips curved into a soft smile.

You tutted quietly, shaking your head and looking between him and the kid.

“The two of you conspiring against me, I never would have believed it.”

“His idea,” Din said. “I was only an accomplice.”

Your smirk returned. “Well then, you two can team up again to find me this time. Because I have a killer spot in mind.”

You dropped the child back into Din’s lap as he started to protest, but you only shook your head, skipping over to the ladder.

“Uh-uh, you’re a part of this now. Count to one hundred. And no cheating! That includes using any of those sensory tools you have in that helmet of yours.”

You shot him a cheeky grin as you slid down the ladder. Din stared after you for a moment, then glanced down at the kid. He made a show of putting his hands over his eyes, as if instructing Din on how to be the seeker.

With a heavy, resigned sigh, Din leaned back against his chair, closed his eyes, and started counting.


	12. Breaking Point

This was a bad idea. 

Din had said as much after he made a call to an old colleague of his, Ran, looking for work. And yet, here you were, awkwardly sitting across from the sharpshooter Mayfeld, the knife wielding Twi’lek Xi’an, and the imposing Devaronian Burg, while a droid– of all things– called Zero was piloting the Razor Crest. You could practically feel Din’s anxious energy as he stood silently beside you in the hull. You knew he was feeling torn, wanting to keep an eye on the droid in his cockpit, but not wanting to leave you alone with your new friends. 

You may have only met this crew a short while ago, but you already knew, you didn’t much care for any of them. Not a single one. Mayfeld was too prideful, enforcing his leadership even with Din’s full cooperation. Burg was restless, clearly itching for some action as he paced back and forth between all of you. And then there was Xi’an, who seemed unpredictable, wild, and definitely holding some kind of grudge against Din. 

Really, all those things you could deal with. Your task was to keep your mouth shut and keep an eye on the child while this job took place. For now, the child was hidden in his secret cubby, the crew oblivious to his existence. This made the first portion of your job a lot easier to manage… until the crew started hassling Din, and not in a hazing-the-new-guy kind of way. 

You sat there, flexing your fingers to keep from clenching them as the crew laughed about the lack of Mandalorians left in the galaxy, wondering if they were really the elite warriors everyone said they were. Mayfeld turned to Xi’an.

“Well, you flew with him, Xi’an. Is he as good as they say?” he asked. 

She kept her concentration on the knife in her hand, balancing it by the tip on her palm, and said, “Ask him about the job on Alzoc III.”

There was a short pause as Mayfeld brought his attention back to Din. Burg finally sat and did the same. You could tell Din was hesitant to answer, and that Xi’an knew he would be, clearly bringing up one of those unsavory jobs you knew were in his past, even if he never told you about them. 

“I did what I had to,” he finally said, his modulated voice the coldest, and most monotone you had ever heard it. Xi’an laughed. 

“Oh, but you liked it,” she murmured, pointing her knife at him. “See, I know who you really are.”

For a moment, Xi’an’s eyes slid in your direction, and her pointed teeth flashed in a smirk. Your brows furrowed slightly, questioningly. You hadn’t said one word since walking out onto Ran’s space station. You hadn’t given any indication towards your relationship with the Mandalorian, other than being a part of his crew. But Xi’an seemed more observant than the others… and far more cunning. 

“He never takes off the helmet?” Mayfeld asked. Xi’an’s gaze flickered back to the others and she shook her head. 

“This is the Way,” she said in a mockingly deep voice, then giggled.

That was when your _one job_ became too much to handle. Your fingers curled into fists, eyes flashing as you glared at her profile. 

Mayfeld hummed thoughtfully, “I wonder what you look like under there.” Din said nothing. So Mayfeld continued to tease him, taking cracks at what he might be under the helmet, and what reasoning he might have to hiding his face. Now you were glaring daggers at the sharpshooter. 

“You ever seen his face?” he asked Xi’an. 

She gave a falsely girlish laugh and said, “A lady never tells.”

With that, you finally lost your composure. You snorted. Everyone’s eyes fell on you, Xi’an’s in a sneer, and even Din’s in warning. 

“What about you, then?” Mayfeld questioned, nodding his head in your direction. “You ever seen his face?” 

You shouldn’t have made a sound. You didn’t doubt that Xi’an and Din had history. You had witnessed their tension-filled reunion back on Ran’s station after all. At the time, the reality of it was something you didn’t care about either way. She was part of Din’s past. There had been questionable relations in your own past– granted, most of them had been forced upon you without you having much choice in the matter– so who were you to blame him for such things? However, you were absolutely certain that Xi’an had not once seen Din without his helmet. 

This was part of their game. Din was the outsider on this job. Mayfeld and the others didn’t like him. So they were ragging on his Creed, his whole belief system and Mandalorians in general, baiting him. 

Fortunately, Din was a rather level-headed man. He wasn’t stupid enough to latch onto the bait. _Unfortunately_ , you were. But you had been observing this group from the moment you laid eyes on them. You had already started to gather each of their workings, the things that might wipe the smirks off their faces, and so you could play this game too. 

“Like she said.” You met Xi’an’s gaze, mirroring her smarmy grin. “A lady never tells.”

Both Mayfeld and Burg laughed. Xi’an simply rolled her eyes. She was trying to bait you in a completely different way, and you weren’t biting. You weren’t exactly sure what her game was, but you could tell it was different from the others’.

“Come on, Mando. We all gotta trust each other here,” Mayfeld said when he finished chuckling. “You gotta show us somethin’.”

Burg stood, and you stiffened, fingers flexing again. You could feel it. That power coursing through you as the air in the Razor Crest continued to thicken with tension. Ever since compelling that woman in the market, you had tried over and over again to find some semblance of control over it. It was still hit or miss, as you were sometimes able to wobbly lift stuff or push things back, while other times, nothing happened at all. 

But now? If things went sideways, you knew you could throw any one of them back. All the failed attempts from before didn’t matter. Din was at the center of all their attention, and not in a good way. You would protect him, no matter what. 

“Come on. Just lift the helmet up,” Mayfeld continued. “Let us all see your eyes.”

Din remained silent, but he was just as on edge as you were. 

At a nod from Mayfeld, Burg’s hand shot up and reached for Din’s helmet. You jumped to your feet as Din caught Burg’s wrist and shoved him back, away from you and towards the hall leading up to the cockpit. Burg turned back towards Din and you lifted your left hand, ready to push him back. But Din kicked him, and as Burg fell back, he grabbed for any part of the ship that would help keep him standing. 

Unfortunately, that part of the ship happened to be the control panel beside the hidden compartment. His meaty hand landed on several buttons, and the door slid open with a _whoosh_.

Everyone in the hull froze as the child was revealed, standing there on Din’s cot, curiously eyeing all of them with a tilt of his head. 

“Whoa! What is that?” Mayfeld stood and moved towards the child. Your raised hand shifted in his direction, but Din subtly shook his head at you. He could handle it.

“You get lonely up here, buddy?” Mayfeld peered at the child for a moment before turning abruptly on Xi’an, who had followed him over. He gestured between her and Din. “Wait a minute. Did you two make that? Huh?”

Xi’an hissed. 

“What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” Din said calmly. “Something like that.”

“Didn’t take you for the type,” Xi’an murmured. “Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

“Me, I was never really into pets,” Mayfeld interjected. “I didn’t have the temperament. Patience, you know? I mean, I tried, but never worked out.”

He continued to survey the child, a strange smile touching his lips. 

“But I’m thinkin’-” he reached for the child, lifting him. You took a slow, measured step in their direction. “-maybe I’ll try again with this little fella.”

It was all part of the same game, the crew testing Din, making jabs at his culture, messing with his “pet”. You wanted so badly to open one of the ramps and throw every last one of them out into hyperspace. But that was the point. That was why Din wanted you to back down, why he made no move to take the kid back from Mayfeld. The moment either of you showed your weaknesses… that was the moment one of them would strike against you. 

Mayfeld eyed the Mandalorian as he held the child. He jokingly lunged, acting like he was going to drop him. Your teeth were clenched so tightly as Din flinched, you were surprised no one else could hear them grinding against each other.

With very little warning from Zero, the Crest suddenly dropped out of hyperspace, and the hull became a den of chaos as it made its final approach on the prison ship. Everyone staggered as they tried to hold themselves upright, but Mayfeld lost his hold on the child. You lunged, but the sudden direction the ship took yanked you away, and the child tumbled to the ground. A flash of anger and panic zinged through you, and it was like you were watching yourself back on that fateful day, tossing the child towards the Mandalorian before Gurn could take his shot at you. And just like that day, no one was close enough to catch him. 

Din landed on his knees, becoming a protective barrier over the child, who thankfully seemed just fine from the fall. Seriously, who turned off this kid’s fall damage? As the ship leveled out, Din scooped the child up, and hastily returned him to his compartment. The others were too disgruntled and sidetracked by the rough flying to notice. 

You were about ten seconds away from punching Mayfeld in the throat, though. You felt both relief and apprehension about not having to deal with him or the others for the next part of the job. 

One by one, the crew passed between the coupling from the Razor Crest to the prison ship. You slowly approached it when only Din was left. Quickly, you snuck a peek down into the prison to make sure the others were far enough away to be out of earshot, then glanced up and met Din’s gaze. 

“They’re going to betray you,” you said matter-of-factly, reigning in all your frustration and anxiety. Din sighed. 

“They will try.”

You resisted the urge to reach out for him. Like several times before, you wanted to grab onto his arm or take his hand, to touch him in some way before he left. But after your revelation just a few days prior, you had been avoiding any kind of physical contact with the Mandalorian. 

You loved a man covered in armor, and you would never, ever push to have him unmasked. At least not in a way that would jeopardize his Creed. However, what you did want was to kiss his lips, to feel his lips and his eyes explore every inch of you, free and uninhibited. You didn’t want to be like Xi’an, where you were sure he had only given a part of himself in that relationship. You wanted all of him, even if you had to be blinded, or not at all. 

You were afraid that, even if he felt the same, he wouldn’t be able to give you that much. It wasn’t fair to expect as much from him, to ask him to change his Way for you. But it also wasn’t fair for you to settle either. All your life, your choices in this arena had been taken from you, and you deserved, for once, to have everything you’ve ever wanted. But not at the cost of his Creed, his way of life. 

So you kept your distance. You were resolute on remaining his partner, and sticking to his side for as long as he would have you, but that was all. That was what you decided would have to be enough.

Unfortunately, as if he deliberately wanted to test the strength of your will, Din was the one to reach out this time, fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. You were surprised by the wave of relief and comfort you felt at his touch, and your eyes searched for his, locking on when you knew you had found them. It had never been hard for you to find his eyes, even if you couldn’t see them. You could even imagine them, clear as day, as if you had been staring into them your entire life. 

Brown. You weren’t sure how you knew, but you were so sure that they were a soft, molten, chocolatey brown. 

“Come back to us,” you whispered with a smile, fond of this new language the two of you had established. A goodbye that wasn’t a goodbye at all. Din’s helmet tilted as his gaze flickered towards the child hidden in his compartment, then he turned back to you. 

“I will.”

—

The two of you had agreed before Din took this job that, whatever it was, you would keep your comlinks muted this time. He was partnered with three very experienced mercenaries. Ones he didn’t trust, and who didn’t trust him back. He had to focus, which meant radio silence. 

However, as you took up Burg’s previous pacing throughout the hull, you didn’t know what was more nerve wracking. Actually hearing Din go through a dangerous job, or not hearing anything at all. You were so tempted to unmute yourself and demand an update after about ten minutes, but didn’t dare distract him. Instead, you took solace in the fact that Din knew this crew was most likely planning to double-cross him, and that he’d call for backup as soon as he needed it. 

After about five more minutes of pacing, you found yourself facing the back ramp, nervously chewing on your thumbnail. That was when the air around you shifted, and your senses perked to attention, that force inside you telling you that something was wrong. You sucked in a sharp breath and dropped, pulling your blaster from your thigh holster as you did so. A blaster shot whizzed over you, ricocheting off the back ramp and thankfully coming to a stop as it collided with one of the bins. 

You rolled, aimed, and shot Zero right in the chest, just as he was preparing to take another shot at you. Zero collapsed as you stood back up, panting slightly. 

“ _Y/N._ ” You jumped as Din’s voice crackled through your earpiece. You made your way over to check on the child and unmuted yourself. 

“What happened?” you asked. 

“ _We were right. They double-crossed us. Shoved me in the cell after we freed the prisoner._ ”

“Yeah, figured as much when the droid started shooting at me.”

“ _It what?_ ”

“I handled it. I’m fine. Do you need backup?”

“ _No, I can get out. The four of them are most likely one their way back, though. I’m going to try and scramble them. If the droid isn’t a problem anymore, it’ll take them longer to navigate back. Guard the ladder. I’m going to pick them off, but you’ll have to make sure none of them try to escape in the meantime._ ”

“You got it, boss.”

—

When you were sure the droid was fully decommissioned and the child was still safe, you swung down into the prison ship and poised yourself at the coupling entrance. It seemed that Din was already steps ahead of you, having escaped and put the ship on lockdown. The red emergency lights were on, and strobe-like lights were flashing everywhere. 

The sensory overload was slightly debilitating, but you hoped it would be that way for whoever might come around the corner as well. You held your blaster up, ready to shoot anyone or anything that cleared the bisecting hallway. You kind of hoped it would be Mayfeld. While you didn’t want to kill him, you had to admit you were itching to wing the asshole. 

It wasn’t Mayfeld that shot around the corner, though. It was Xi’an, and it seemed as though she had anticipated your presence there, guarding her escape. Before your finger could so much as twitch against the trigger, she lobbed a glowing knife at you. Its end smacked against your wrist so hard, your grip on the blaster loosened, and it clattered to the floor. 

_Shit!_

You quickly unmuted your earpiece and breathed, “I’ve got Xi’an.” Din didn’t answer, but you hoped that was because he was busy dealing with the others.

You quickly pulled out your own knife, and dodged the other two she threw at you as she rushed the length of the hall. You barely swung out of the way in time for a fourth knife, and it shot past you, cleaving through a few strands of your hair, instead of grazing your cheek. 

Okay, so your fighting skills had gotten better, but not by _this_ much. While half of the instincts you were feeling in this moment were from the lessons Zekir, Cara, and Din had drilled into you, you could feel that the other half was coming from your psychic power, or whatever it was. Just as you shouldn’t have been able to _feel_ Zero’s oncoming attack, you shouldn’t be able to dodge Xi’an’s assault this well either. She was fast, and you knew your reflexes were not on par with hers. And yet, aside from the first blow, you were dodging everything she was throwing at you. 

Xi’an pulled up short when she realized that none of her shots were landing. She was only a few feet away from you now, and you stood your ground, deciding to have faith in this power of yours, willing to let it guide you. Xi’an stared at you quizzically for a beat, catching her breath, as if she too found it hard to believe you were holding your own against her. Then, she shot you that toothy smirk of hers. 

“Well, look at you,” she hummed, eyes running over your form from head to toe. “I suppose I can see why Mando keeps you around. Didn’t really get it at first, but now…” She paused, and cocked her head to the side in a mockingly consoling way. She also moved in such a minimal way that you almost missed the small step she took in your direction. Almost.

“I recognize that look in your eyes,” she pressed. “The loyalty you have for him that’s going to keep you between me and that ship. I had that loyalty too, once.” 

You watched her every move. She couldn’t rush you, so she was going to try and dissuade you, catch you off guard. You realized now that that was the game she had been playing earlier. Planting seeds of doubt. And now she was going to water them, and watch them grow. 

“I recognized the way you looked at him, too. The way you moved as he moved. You’re completely in sync with him. But, I’ll save you some trouble, girl, and tell you now that he can’t be trusted.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, still holding your fighting stance. You knew that was what she was waiting for. A split second where you lowered your guard to consider her words. That’s when she would make her move, and cut you down. She read the skepticism on your face and shook her head, as if she expected as much. 

“You don’t believe me. And that’s because you don’t know him. Not really. But, _I do_. I’ve seen what he’s _really_ capable of. Even now, on this very job, the lengths he’s already gone to…” You very much noticed the small step she took towards you again. “There were only supposed to be droids manning this ship, but there was a human in the control room. Your Mando didn’t even hesitate. Shot him down in cold blood. A completely innocent man we could have dealt with without killing-”

“I think you’re mistaken about the kind of person I am,” you finally interjected. Xi’an halted her inconspicuous advance, the act fading from her eyes just slightly. 

“Even if I believed you for one second, something like that would not discourage the loyalty I have for my partner.” Her nostrils flared and she opened her mouth to protest, but you continued. 

“Like you, I have seen firsthand what Mando is capable of. But the difference between you and me? You _thought_ you knew who he was. I believe that, once upon a time, you thought he was like you. Willing to take on any job, do whatever was necessary to get those jobs done, no questions asked. But he wasn’t. My guess is that a job came up that you were willing to take, and he wasn’t. So he left.”

Din had never so much as hinted about this portion of his life. So how was it you were so certain of your words? 

Because he had gone back to rescue the child. He had gone back to rescue _you_. You’d seen him honor three life debts that really should have only been one. Unlike Xi’an, you knew his heart. He really wasn’t the kind of man that would go to _any_ lengths to complete a job and collect the reward. All that time ago, perhaps it might have seemed that way. But you honestly didn’t believe he had ever been like that, or ever would be. 

“As for me? I have no such disillusions about who he is, or what he’s done. And I don’t care how pissed off you still are about being wrong.” You met Xi’an’s contemptuous stare as she heaved angry breaths. “You can’t convince me otherwise.”

Xi’an lunged, a shrieking growl tearing from her lips. You saw it coming. You were still at a disadvantage in this fight, and it didn’t matter that she was so enraged that her swings were sloppy. She was still so fast. So your best bet was to keep dodging until you found an opening.

You ducked and leaned this way and that, allowing your power to pull your body and guide her away from the ladder. As much of a mess as she was, you were having a hard time finding the opportune moment to strike. She was very skilled at her craft and you were mediocre at best. 

You reached a moment where she swung her knife down with her right hand, and you reeled back, but didn’t have enough time to recover when she suddenly brought that knife back up in a reversing arc. All you could do was throw your arms up to guard against her slashing up anything important. 

The tip of the knife dug into your right arm, just above your elbow, and cleaved it’s way up the back of your forearm, all the way to your wrist. You cried out, and your power pulsed in response. You let it explode out of you, your left hand raising as Xi’an shot backwards. You slammed her against the wall, only feet away from the ladder. The strobing lights and searing pain addled your thoughts, and all you could feel was hot, unbridled anger. 

Images flashed behind your lids as you blinked and tried to reign yourself in. Xi’an, Toro, Zekir, Rhet, Thasar, his nameless, faceless business partners, several different foster relations… all the people that had ever caused you pain came rushing to the front of your mind, beating back any rational thought you ever had, making you vibrate with all that bottled rage.

And you just let it happen. It suffocated the pain of your arm, as well as the sound of Xi’an’s struggling hisses and curses as she fought against your invisible hold. You clenched your fingers a little, wondering if that would hold her still. It did, but only for a second before she started thrashing again. 

**_Tighter._**

Your hand became a claw, and Xi’an sputtered. 

**_That’s it. Tighter._**

It felt like you were squeezing a stress ball in your hand, and all you wanted to do was crush it. Crush Xi’an. Crush all of them. It didn’t even penetrate your mind that Xi’an was gasping, legs floundering, hands grappling at some unknown force against her neck. All you wanted was for her, for all of them, to feel even just a hint of the pain they had caused you, over, and over, and over-

“Y/N!”

The force at which you snapped back into yourself was so staggering, it left you gasping and gulping for air, as if you hadn’t been breathing for several minutes. Xi’an was doing the same as she slid down the wall, coughing and hacking as air fought its way back into her lungs. You stared at her for a moment while you caught your breath, plummeting down from that high of rage and hurt, confused and lost as to what just happened. 

What _did_ just happen?

The man whose voice had just yanked you back into existence hurriedly stepped up to you, grabbing for your elbow as if to hold you steady. You met Din’s eyes through his visor, and that anger fizzled out. Not gone. Just… simmering, way below the surface. 

“What was that just now?” He asked. His tone wasn’t accusing, but you could tell that whatever he saw, it didn’t sit well with him. You blinked, hard. 

“I-I’m not really sure. I was trying to keep her off the ship.”

The two of you glanced down at Xi'an who was still sputtering, on the verge of unconsciousness. Din’s hand reflexively tightened on your elbow and you hissed, flinching back from his touch. He quickly looked back, taking in the jagged cut up the length of your arm. Thankfully, it was shallow. Nothing a bacta patch couldn’t fix. 

Din still swore, though. Violently, and in a different language. Your eyebrows inched upwards a little as you looked at him. Usually, you were the one with the vulgar language. While he did swear, you don’t think you’ve ever heard him spit something so vehemently like that. 

He was on edge, reaching a point of anger that could have rivaled yours from just a moment ago.

“If you could get hurt less often, it would really give me some peace of mind,” he ground out, holding up your arm for closer inspection. Your eyebrows shot up higher. 

“Me?” You blanched, then poked a finger against his breastplate, where a few scorch marks lingered that hadn’t been there when he left you. “I know you’re covered in beskar, but that does _not_ make you invincible. If _you_ could take less shots, it would really give _me_ some peace of mind.”

You could tell that he opened his mouth to argue, but closed it with a frustrated sigh. 

“I’ll work on it,” he agreed after a moment. You smiled at him, sickly sweet. 

“Good. Can we go now?” He shook his head. 

“No. I’ve taken care of the others, but I’d like to take Qin back to Ran and finish this; clean up a loose end. But we only have a limited window of time. A beacon was set off during all this, calling for New Republic backup.”

“Qin… as in the prisoner? You wound up knowing them?”

“Yeah. He’s Xi’an’s brother.”

“Oh.” Once again, you glanced back down at Xi’an, who was panting, but seemed unable to get up and escape. Considering she had just tried to kill you, you didn’t really feel bad for what you did in retaliation, whatever it was. 

“I’m sure he’s just as pleasant.”

Din huffed out a strained chuckle, then urged you to dress your wound while he took care of Xi’an and went on one last look for Qin. If he couldn’t find the Twi’lek within five minutes, they were just going to have to leave without finishing the job. 

When you finished applying a bacta patch to your arm, you took up your post by the ladder again, waiting for Din. He wasn’t gone for too long before he rounded the corner with a creature that definitely looked like Xi’an’s brother. It seemed he and Din had struck some sort of deal, as they were both cooperating with each other, albeit tensely. He also didn’t seem all that concerned about the fact that we were leaving his sister and crew behind on the prison ship. Knowing him, Din most likely locked them all up in one of the cells. You were tempted to laugh at the irony.

The trek back to Ran’s space station was fast, and tense. Din was rushing, and you weren’t exactly sure why. He had jumped straight into hyperspace after leaving the prison, so it couldn’t have been a concern about the beacon anymore. Either way, you remained wary. Throughout the trip, the exchange back on Ran’s station, and even during Din’s hasty retreat when all was said and done. 

It wasn’t until you saw three ships drop out of hyperspace before you, and watched them zoom past the Razor Crest to approach Ran’s station that you realized why Din had been in such a hurry to have the job done. 

“You brought the beacon, didn’t you? Planted it on Qin before he got off the ship,” you asked incredulously, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Din’s only reply was to jump back into hyperspace. Only then did he heave a massive sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as the tension left him. He turned, catching your eye as you sat there in your co-pilot’s chair, the child in your lap, staring at him in wonderment.

“I told you that was a bad idea,” was all he said.


	13. Vulnerable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very light smut. 😉

After barely escaping that gods awful job, Din found you a couple hours later down in the hull, standing before the supply shelf. You were pulling the bacta patch off the back of your right arm, inspecting the new, pink scar there from wrist to elbow. You noticed his approach and turned, eyes darting up towards the cockpit.

“Is he-” you started to say, but Din interjected. 

“He’s sleeping. He pulled that satchel up onto your chair, crawled into it, and passed out.”

You sputtered a laugh, and Din tried so damn hard not to focus on that sound. On the way that smile lit up your whole face. He followed you down here for a reason, and he would not allow himself to be distracted. 

So he forced a nod towards your arm and asked, “How is it?” You held it up for him to see.

“As good as it’s going to get,” you replied, not even sounding remotely upset that the scar was permanent. He reached out and let his thumb trace over the puckered skin. Gods, it was like he couldn’t even control these impulses anymore. As the weeks passed, he found it increasingly more difficult to keep from touching you. It never had to be anything substantial. A hand on the small of your back, a squeeze of your fingers in his, a grip on your wrist or your elbow. It didn’t matter that his hands were covered either, as these small moments of contact were more assurances to him than anything. Making sure you were real, you were still there, still with him. 

How had it only been little more than two months, and yet it felt like you had always been there? Always at his side, watching over him, and trusting him to watch over you in return. 

His thumb moved from one end of the scar down to the other. He couldn’t help but regret their lack of a more concentrated formula of bacta, like in a spray, or a gel. With those, the wound would have healed entirely, not even a mark left behind to insinuate it had been ripped open just a few hours ago. 

Seeming to read his mind, you said, “It’s not too bad. What’s another scar, really?”

Din had been thinking the opposite actually. He remembered all too well seeing the mess of crisscrossing scars on your back, and how you were so careful to keep them hidden from him ever since. Which seemed odd. While you had never confirmed such a thing, Din was quite certain that you had been conditioned at a young age into thinking a person’s body was an object, and not something that was supposed to be cherished, worshiped, and only shared with someone you chose. You were not modest or self conscious in that area by any means, oftentimes changing clothes whether he was present or not. It wasn’t like you showed him anything too scandalous, but you definitely held your body in a way that Din wouldn’t be able to see your back, even if he tried. 

Those scars meant something to you. Even more than your own body did. So what was one more scar? Din had the feeling it was a lot more than you were letting on. And Xi’an had done that to you… which reminded him why he had come to find you.

When Din dropped his hand back down to his side, you sucked in a shallow breath as if you had forgotten the necessity of oxygen for a moment, and blinked rapidly up at him.

“Would you like some privacy to check on your own wounds?” you asked. Din shook his head. 

“No. I have nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. I actually wanted to… to talk to you about something.”

The way he hesitated in his words instantly brought your guard up. You blinked a few more times, and tried to keep your shoulders from rising in anxiety.

“O-okay.”

“About the things that Xi’an said.”

You closed your eyes in realization and quietly groaned. You must have forgotten to mute your comlink after telling him that you were with Xi’an in the prison earlier. 

“You heard that whole exchange from when I was with her, didn’t you?” you asked, peeking one eye open to look at him warily. 

“Yes. But I’m also referring to the things that were said before we boarded the prison ship.” 

You tried for a reassuring smile. For the entirety of that job, all Xi’an and the others had done was shit on him, his Creed, and his past. That must have caused him some uneasiness, especially where you were concerned, as you had been around to hear every word. 

“Din, you don’t have to defend or explain yourself to me. If you wanted to, I’d listen of course. But I’m telling you that you don’t have to. I’m on your side. Nothing a bunch of assholes say is going to change that.”

Din paused for a moment, doing that thing he usually did when he was contemplating an appropriate response. It had been well over two months and you still weren’t sure if he did that because he didn’t want to overshare, or because he didn’t want to spook you with what he had to say.

“There are things that I’d rather not get into for now. Just as I know there are things you don’t talk about either. I think it’s apparent that we’ve developed a sort of unspoken understanding to give each other the space we need until we’re ready to broach those things.”

You nodded wholeheartedly in agreement. That was how it had been since day one. If you asked a question about his job that he didn’t want to answer, he’d say so. And if he started prying too much and you clammed up, he’d back off. Then the two of you would move on. Did he think that hearing Xi’an throw his past in his face would make you reconsider that understanding? You opened your mouth to say that wasn’t the case, but Din continued. 

“I believe you when you say you don’t have any doubts. But after sitting on what Xi’an and the others said, I’ve realized that I haven’t really given you a reason not to have any.”

“What are you talking about?” you said in surprise. How could he think he’s never given you a reason to trust him when that’s all he’s been doing for as long as you’ve known him? “I have encountered many, many people over the years. Each one worse than the last. So trust me when I say this, Din. You are the most honest, real, trustworthy person I have ever met.” 

After a moment, Din murmured, “Perhaps, but… you used to believe similar things about someone else once.”

You flinched. It was such a knee jerk response that there was no hiding it. The reaction itself reminded you of the way things had been once. How words had been used as a weapon to split you open, and then poke and prod at the aching parts inside. You knew Din hadn’t meant for his words to hurt you like that, but having that said still felt like a punch to the gut. Because, as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. 

Din noticed your reaction and quickly proceeded.

“I know Zekir is one of those subjects that is part of our unspoken agreement. But the point I’m trying to make is that, there was a time you trusted him too, until he made you doubt him.”

“This is different,” you whispered, pushing thoughts of Zekir back into the recesses of your mind, where they belonged. He sighed. 

“I know. But that doesn’t mean that you won’t wake up one day and wonder if I might betray you too. I would prefer to avoid that. After everything the three of us have been through, I’ve come to realize that I don’t want to risk going back to a life without either of you in it.”

Heat crept over your cheeks and across your ears. The possibility that this whole arrangement might end someday had always been a thought you kept at bay. You figured, at the very least, that reality would be a long way off. But you hadn’t realized that Din was in the same boat, that he didn’t want it to end either. You smiled fondly up at him. 

“I’m going to give you something, Y/N, to show you how much I mean that.”

“I don’t see what else it is you think I need,” you argued. “You’ve helped me keep my freedom. You’ve taken me under your wing and trained me. You’ve told me your true name. What else is-”

You froze, the words dying on your lips. Your eyes snapped to his and widened to the size of horrified saucers as what he meant by all of this _finally_ dawned on you. 

You started to slowly shake your head in disbelief, and stammered, “N-no. Din, no. A-absolutely not. I don’t- I’m not asking-” 

“I know you’re not,” he said, interrupting your babbling protest. “And I know you would never dream of asking me either. That’s why I’m the one who’s offering.”

“But- but…” You scrambled for words, for objections, but your brain was malfunctioning. Was he really saying this? Was he really willing to give this to you? This part of himself that he has claimed no one else has seen, has ever known?

“But… showing me your face? Removing your helmet? I don’t need that. I promise you, Din, I don’t.”

“This is my choice,” was all he said. You ran a restless hand through your hair, still not believing the two of you were even discussing this.

“You do know that showing me your face is going against your Creed, right? You’ve told me as much.” Din huffed that quiet chuckle of his and shook his head. 

“You’re right. It is forbidden for any living thing to see me without my helmet. However, there are other ways I can show you, if you’ll let me.”

You assessed him for a long, long moment, searching his body language for any tell of discomfort. There were none. You found his eyes through his visor, and he met your intense gaze with resolution, not backing down, no matter how hard you were looking for even an inch of reconsideration. When he continued to give you nothing, you were left with very few choices. Cave, or walk away. You wouldn’t do that to him, though. Not when he was so set on this. 

With a deep breath of resignation– and for good measure as your heartbeat started to pick up– you said, “Okay.”

Din nodded, then, slowly, he reached over to the control panel beside his hidden compartment, and switched off the lights. Keeping the hull dark was a regular occurrence whenever you and the child were trying to sleep, but there were usually still little lights on here and there, pieces of equipment blinking, preventing you from plunging into complete darkness. Not now, though. Din deactivated the main breaker for the entire hull, and it shut everything down.

Thank gods there was still a faint glow coming from the cockpit, as the absolute darkness surrounding you threatened to resurface memories of dank crawlspaces, your throbbing, bleeding back, gut wrenching sobs-

You focused on Din, blinking back those nightmares, and let that soft glow down the hall help your eyes adjust to the dark. 

“Can you see anything?” Din asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

Aside from the dark outline of his silhouette, you couldn’t. It was almost like he was nothing more than a vague shadow. Not trusting your voice, you shook your head, then realized that if you couldn’t see him, he couldn’t really see you either. 

Shakily, you said, “No.”

The arms of his form lifted, and you heard the sound of leather sliding against skin. He was removing his gloves. You heard them hit the work shelf beside you with a soft _thwump_. Next, he reached those bare hands up, and laid them flat against the sides of his helmet. You watched, hypnotized, as his dark form did something you never thought you’d witness, not in a million years. In front of the eyes of another living being, Din Djarin removed his helmet, and you forgot how to breathe. 

The helmet found its home beside his gloves, the thud on the metallic work counter far more pronounced and ominous than that of the leather. After what felt like an agonizingly long moment, you felt the calloused pads of Din’s fingertips brush down both your arms, raising goosebumps, until they reached your wrists. Slowly– so excruciatingly slow– he lifted your hands, guiding them, until they were touching either side of his unmasked face. A small gasp escaped your lips, and your arms, hands, fingers, all of them started to tremble.

For a small instant, you couldn’t even move, or respond, or do _anything_. Your brain might as well have been making the dial-up sounds your dad’s old computer used to make for how much it was actually processing at that moment. Eventually, you came back to yourself and you forced yourself to focus on Din’s bare skin beneath yours. 

His jawline was peppered with scruff, as if he hadn’t shaved that morning. In complete and total contrast to his cold, hard armor, his skin felt so warm and soft. Inviting, even. So you accepted its offer and carefully brushed your fingers up across his cheekbones, finding them prominent and high. 

Dizzy with wonder and amazement, you concentrated as your touch trailed up towards his temples, feeling the hint of crows feet beside his eyes. You kept going until his hair tickled at your fingertips. It wasn’t too long, but it was thick with a hint of shagginess, the ends barely twisting into curls. Gods, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to completely run your fingers through his hair, to tangle them into his soft locks… 

Reining back your control, you brought your left hand back down to his cheek as your index finger slowly skimmed over his forehead, continuing on until you found the bridge of his nose. There was a definite curve there, perhaps from it being broken once or twice. Or maybe he was just born that way. You had never been much of an artist, but as you memorized each of his features with touch alone, it helped you paint a picture of him inside your head. He was right. If you were forbidden from physically seeing his true face, then he could give you this, and you could see it through your own imagination.

Your fingers finished gliding down the length of his nose… and then they were brushing against the cupid’s bow of his upper lip. You found more stubble there, then warm and smooth skin as you ever-so-lightly touched his mouth. Mesmerized, you traced the outline of his bottom lip, and felt his breath tickle your fingers as he blew out a shuddering breath.

And that was it. That reaction alone shut your brain down entirely. There was no logic, no rational thought, no reasoning at all to stop you when you leaned forward, pushed up onto your toes, and replaced your fingers with your lips. 

However, the moment your lips brushed his, your brain rebooted, and you experienced a terrifying .25 seconds of complete and utter panic. 

_Too far! Too far! Too far!_

He had _trusted_ you with this, allowing you to see him the only way he felt comfortable without breaking his oath, and you had crossed the line. You hadn’t even lasted more than a couple minutes and-

But then Din’s lips were reacting to yours without more than a second of hesitation. As his hands grazed against your hips, you sighed and relaxed, melting into him. And then… you were kissing Din. And he was kissing you back. And gods his lips were so soft, and plump, and intoxicating. He pulled you close as his lips parted against yours, deepening the kiss. 

The way his mouth moved with yours reminded you of something Xi’an had said, how the two of you were so in sync with one another, moving in ways that complimented each other. You fulfilled the fantasy you had only minutes ago and plunged your fingers into his hair, gliding them through the soft strands and tugging softly. You wanted to bring him even closer, and see in what other ways the two of you could compliment each other. 

When breathing became necessary, Din slowed, kissing you once, twice, three more times before pulling back. His chest heaved, mirroring your own, and he leaned his forehead against yours.

You were both silent for a moment, basking in the amazingness of what had just happened. Like always, you couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew you were staring into them, wonder and elated happiness warming you from head to toe. 

“If you ever want me to stop, Y/N,” he breathed. “You’ll tell me.”

Your heart staggered to a stop, and your eyes went wide. The way he said that, with his voice pure and unfiltered through static, it was as if it wasn’t even a suggestion. It was an order, with nothing left open for different interpretations. Not just for you, but for him. You had a choice, and he wasn’t going to take that away from you. If you told him to stop, he would. 

No one had ever, _ever_ given you that option. As absolutely messed up as that sounded, it was true. What you wanted or didn’t want should have never been an option, but a rule. However, it was a rule no one had ever respected before… until now. Until Din. And for a long breath, you weren’t even sure how to respond. Your heart was swelling, your eyes starting to water, a lump forming in your throat. 

Wasn’t that the saddest thing of all? How fucked did one’s past have to be to not know how to react when someone was showing them a standard amount of common decency?

So you kissed him again, softly. Just a tender press of your lips against his, putting everything you felt into it, hoping it got the message across. And, as a tear slipped down your cheek, you whispered your choice against his mouth. 

“I don’t want you to stop.” 

Din only hesitated for a moment before he responded, his grip tightening on your hips, pushing you back against the supply cabinet, mouth molding over yours. The tempo at which the two of you were moving had changed drastically. From sweet and tender, to fervent and full of need. You had to breathe more often than before, and in a short pause for air, you carefully slid the tip of your tongue along his lower lip, tasting him fully. Slightly metallic, but so rich and heavy, like honey. He quietly groaned in response, the sound leaving you breathless.

Din’s fingers carefully slipped under the hem of your shirt, lightly brushing against the skin of your waist. You had absolutely no idea just how amazing it was to feel someone cherish every inch of your skin as they explored, this part never really getting any focus during the relations of your past. Living his life completely covered in armor, you imagined he felt the same. You had never considered yourself touch starved until Din’s hands fell upon you, and then you wished for his hands, his lips, his unarmored skin to be everywhere and anywhere on you. 

That was until his hands circled around to your back, venturing upward with a slow purpose, until his fingers brushed over scars, and you tensed, gasping. Your body seized so tightly in response, it sent a slight jolt of discomfort up your spine. Instinctively, you arched away from his touch, and Din froze. 

“Do you want me to stop?” he breathed, holding completely still until you answered. Your hands against his jaw fell to his shoulders, and you considered his question as you tried to catch your breath.

They were _just_ scars. You hadn’t seen his yet, but you were sure he was covered in them too. You had said before that you wanted every part of him, or nothing at all. It was only fair that you gave as much as you wanted to get. If he trusted you to be this close to him without his armor, then you could too. 

“No,” you answered. Din’s palms lightly glided over your back, softly exploring the damaged canvas. He didn’t evade a single inch of raised skin, and you clutched tightly at his shoulders, panting breaths still ragged as you tried and failed to relax back into his touch. 

Din watched the silhouette of your form carefully as his hands slid back down your spine. He realized then what these wounds were; why it was hard for you to let someone else see or feel them. It was too revealing, too personal, too intimate. You were so fierce, and stubborn, and strong-willed, your convictions like iron, and your armor as sturdy as his beskar. But this was evidence that you were vulnerable, that you could be hurt, that it was already too late and the damage was done. It was the rawest representation of what you looked like on the inside, buried so deep beneath your absolute determination to finally live your own life, fearing no one ever again. 

It was sad how sure he was of this revelation, because he could relate and empathize. It was for the same reasons he felt a small sense of panic whenever he removed his helmet, his beskar wall of protection. He wondered if being with someone who understood what it meant to be lost, to be afraid of showing weakness, of breaking down those walls, would help the both of you work through it. 

For now, if your labored breathing was any indication, Din was close to pushing your limits. So he brought his hands back around to your sides, and you very visibly and audibly relaxed. 

“Sorry,” you started to murmur, but Din cut off your apology by capturing your lips once again. You had absolutely nothing to apologize for, and he wasn’t going to pressure you into handling these demons until you were ready, just as he was sure you would do the same for him.

As the previous moment passed and a new one started to take place, you found yourself growing bold as Din’s desire for you became more and more apparent. The two of you were so tangled up in one another that you could feel his arousal pressing against your pelvis. However, he seemed intent on keeping things above each other’s clothing now, being careful not to make you uncomfortable again, and it was beginning to frustrate you. 

Just because your back was temporarily off limits didn’t mean you didn’t want him touching other parts of you. So, you moved a little to find a better position, then rolled your hips against him. The two of you gasped, both tensing, the feeling of that slight friction alone enough to send flashes of light dancing behind your hooded lids. You did it again, and Din swore, burying his face into your neck as he tried to find composure. You didn’t want him to find composure, though. You were about two seconds away from taking his hand and showing him exactly _what_ you wanted, a plea on your lips, but he seemed to take the hint as his fingers finally tugged at your waistband. 

You wriggled up onto your toes, trying to meet his hand, and when his fingers finally slipped between your folds and made that initial contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, you released a breathless moan, head falling back against the cabinet, stars popping in and out of your vision. He started with a slow, methodical rhythm that soon had your insides coiling, heat pooling, chest heaving. How was it possible that this was causing you to feel even more flustered, but in such a deliciously intoxicating way? You were sure no one had ever made you feel this way before.

But fuck, what did you really know about any of this anyway? In your experience, sex had never been about making you feel good. You were just there, a fantasy to fulfill, an object to use in order to satisfy a need. Din very clearly had a need, but instead he was taking care of you, making you feel things you hadn’t known you could feel. This was not your first time by any means, but with Din, it absolutely felt like a first time.

Din’s deft fingers picked up in pace, and you found yourself moving in time with each of his strokes. Gods, he was making you lose your mind, and all you wanted was to make him feel the same. You found his lips and kissed him, hard, sliding your hand down between you to meet with his. You palmed him over his pants and he hissed. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” he breathed, his free hand scrambling as he quickly snatched your wrist. He pulled your hand away, guiding it back up to drape it over his shoulder. 

“Don’t. Just… just let me…”

You started to protest, but the words were instantly cut short as Din’s fingers halted their merciless teasing and trailed their way towards your core, one finger sinking languidly inside of you.

Your knees turned to jelly and a cry of pure ecstasy escaped your lips. The muscles in your arms reflexively constricted around Din’s neck, and you buried your face against his skin as you fought to stifle your moans. 

Your arms were wrapped so tightly around him, your mouth inches from his ear, and the sounds you were making as he slowly started to move his finger in you was driving him absolutely wild. _Everything_ about you was driving him wild. Your touch, your lips, your sickly sweet scent, the feel of your slick walls squeezing his finger, the moans and incoherent murmurs you were breathing against his skin. All of it was almost enough to end him. Almost. That was why he had stopped you earlier. He had to face the fact that it had been a very long time, and he hadn’t felt like fighting a losing battle. The second you had touched him, he knew it would be over all too soon. 

As he continued his ministrations, your hips grinding against his hand, he occasionally felt the back of his hand brush against his crotch. Each time it did, he lost a little more control, and before he knew it, he was pushing back against his hand, his hips matching the pace you had set, imagining that he was inside you. 

As soon as he started to feel the tension building in his gut, he pulled his hand back, only to add a second digit and elicit throaty whimpers from the beautiful creature writhing beneath him. Gods, he wished he could see your face. He wanted to see the fog of lust in your captivating eyes, and trace a thumb over your brows that were surely bent in pleasure. He wanted to see how swollen your lips had gotten, how flushed your skin was, how untamed your hair must have become.

Was this how it felt for you, not being able to see him at all? Not being able to read the expressions on his face, see the things you made him feel, or see any kind of reaction in his eyes? To him, this was maddening, but he supposed it was fair. 

As Din was reaching his limit, he desperately curled his fingers inside you, and started rubbing your clit again with his thumb. A ragged breath slipped through your teeth, your arms tightened even more– if that was possible– and your walls constricted around his fingers. 

“Oh gods, _Din_!” you rasped out, voice trembling as you tipped over the edge, your climax tumbling over with you. Just hearing you say his name like that undid him, and he gave one final thrust against his hand, against you, as he guided you through your orgasm, following close behind. 

The two of you were panting heavily as you blissfully floated back down into yourselves. Din unhurriedly started to disentangle himself, and his nose skimmed along your jaw until his lips found yours. He kissed you, bringing you contentedly back into the moment. You smiled against him, a floating feeling swirling in your stomach. 

After another long, sweet kiss, you lazily said, “Is _that_ what you wanted to show me?”

Din snorted a laugh. A real laugh that vibrated through you, causing your insides to flutter with elation. 

“You know damn well this wasn’t what I was talking about earlier. But… the sentiment remains the same.”

You hummed, satisfied. As you tried to find his eyes in the dark, you found yourself wondering something for the millionth time, and decided that this was as good a time as any to finally ask him. 

“Tell me something, if you’re allowed to.”

Din reached up and brushed a few strands of your hair back, cupping your face and wishing more and more that he could actually see your face in this moment. Seriously, how did you handle this frustration?

“What is it?” He finally asked. 

“What color are your eyes?" 

He laughed again and shrugged. He supposed that, aside from physically seeing his face, all the other rules and limitations he had set for himself when it came to you had just been thrown completely out the window. Where was the harm in answering this one, simple question?

"Brown.”

At least, if he couldn’t see your smile, he could feel it as you leaned into him, sighing with content. 

“I knew it.”


End file.
